


One

by HotMolasses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: All of life's problems are solved by fucking, As romantic as Panlix can get without going OOC, Don't worry Pan is still a manipulative little shit, Drama, M/M, Over the Top, Panlix - Freeform, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4633965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotMolasses/pseuds/HotMolasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix fell to his knees and bowed his head.<br/>“Then I will gladly die.”<br/>He was yanked to his feet by Pan’s invisible magic.<br/>“You will not.” he spat.  His magic pulled Felix to him and he kissed him, forcefully, angrily, his teeth clasping Felix’s bottom lip, owning him, possessing him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I've posted any fanfic, mainly because it's been awhile since I've shipped anything hard enough that I wanted to put effort into writing.  
> Then Panlix happened.  
> So now I have a 9-or-so chapter story. Here are the first three; the others are mostly complete and should be up shortly!  
> I hope you enjoy :)

“Get everyone who’s going on the mission. Make sure we have all the supplies and meet at Claw Rock at sundown.”

            Felix nodded to show his compliance- as if that were even necessary; when had he ever not complied to Pan’s wishes?- and Pan vanished from his sight. No matter how long he lived in Neverland; no matter how much magic he mastered; he’d _never_ be able to simply appear and reappear wherever he pleased, the way Pan did. No one could. A small smirk ticked up at the corner of Felix’s mouth, and he set on his way.

            Pan needed more recruits. Too many Lost Boys had died since the last time they’d gone out recruiting, whenever that had been. Neverland made you immortal, but not invincible. A slip of the foot on a clifftop when you were out of pixie dust and well, no more Lost Boy. The ones who learned quickly tended to last forever, and then there were the ones who didn’t. They called it Graveyard Gully for a reason.

            Felix sauntered through the forest, whistling a low, ominous sound that sent the littler ones scurrying. Not that it mattered; Pan had a list of who he wanted. If you were on it, you were going, and if you weren’t, you were not. It’s not like you had a say in the matter.

            Felix was always at the top of the list. While Pan remained frighteningly powerful in other realms, he wasn’t _all_ powerful the way he was in Neverland. Out of his element, his power had some very subtle limitations- such as he could only see what was in front of him, instead of knowing the whereabouts of every single pair of feet (or fins, or claws) on his island.

            He needed more eyes. Eyes that he could trust. Ears that would listen for him. A mouth that would never lie to him. And so he brought Felix.

            Felix caught sight of Twigs and stopped in his deceptively lazy walk. The ten-year-old froze behind a bramble.

            “Come on out.” Felix’s low, even voice wafted over. “Pan summons you.”

            Shaking, but trying to hide it, Twigs emerged upright onto the path. Most of the Boys were as frightened of Felix as they were of Pan; there were always rumors flying around that Felix was as powerful as Peter. Felix found them utterly ridiculous and wanted to squash such blasphemous nonsense, but Pan seemed amused by it and so he let their imaginations run wild.

            At least it made Felix’s job of keeping them in line easier.

            Twigs stared up at Felix, who was by far the tallest of all the Boys. Hell, he was even taller than some pirates. He peered out from under his hood, his expression the same deadpan it always was.

            “What does he want me for?”

            Felix let a smirk hint at his lips.

            “You’re coming to help recruit.”

            Twigs shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. Felix could tell he wanted to argue. Recruiting was fun for the meaner boys- but less so for the nicer ones. Honestly Felix didn’t know why Pan chose a boy like Twigs to even come. But he never questioned his plans. It wasn’t as if Pan ever failed.

            “Problem, Soldier?”

            “No, sir.”

            “Good.” Felix let the pause go on longer than necessary, just to watch the boy squirm a little more. Maybe he had become pretty mean over the past few hundred years. He mentally shrugged. Not surprising, considering who he adored.

            _Adored_? What the hell? How did a word like that even _get_ in his vocabulary?

            “Get your ass to Claw Rock by sundown.” Felix said, and Twigs nodded nervously. The taller boy then gracefully stepped around him, his feet falling nearly silent on the forest floor, as he walked on to the next recruit, completing his mission.

           

            The boys chattered and some wrestled and argued as they waited for Pan at Claw Rock. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the first star or two about to appear any minute. Felix sat on a boulder whittling with his trusted knife; a blade that never dulled just as he never aged.

            Though, when he thought about it sometimes, that didn’t seem to be quite true. He wasn’t always the tallest on the island. In fact he was pretty sure that when he came, he was one of the shortest. He glanced down at his cape. When he first made it, it fell to his ankles. Now it fell to just past his ass. It was a perfect testament to the fact that he _had_ grown—though he couldn’t remember it happening. He tried to remember those first days; what it was like when he was new. Who had been around. He arched and eyebrow, thinking. He couldn’t remember their names. Was _anyone_ still around from his earlier days besides Pan?

            Was Felix the oldest?

            Maybe that was why Pan chose him to come on these missions so often? He knew he could handle himself.

            Felix felt the electric presence of his king a second before everyone else. Everybody shut up and tried to stand at attention, though a scuffle over a beetle continued on the sideline. Pan allowed it to continue. He nearly always approved of roughhousing.

            “Everybody got his mask?” Pan said, his voice low and even and soft, but frighteningly commanding. Felix lived just to hear it. The words didn’t matter. He’d obey whatever they were.

            Each boy held up his own handmade mask, some ridiculous, some creepy.

            “Capes?”

            Hands all raised, holding capes.

            “Sticks?”

            Sticks were all displayed.

            Pan nodded his approval. He reached behind him- completely for effect, since there was nothing behind his back- and when he pulled out his hands, they were full of glowing green pixie dust.

            Everyone’s eyes lit up; whatever qualms they’d had about going now forgotten. Pan rarely shared the dust with anyone. And _nobody_ would turn down a chance to fly.

            Pan laughed gleefully, his voice boyish but the sound too maniacal to be innocent. He raised his hands and sprinkled the dust on everyone. The boys whooped and hollered and spun in it, and Felix smiled at their gleeful exclamations as their feet lifted off the ground.

            “Yeah, this is great!”

            “I forgot how awesome this is!”

            “Thanks for letting me come, Pan!”

            The king smiled in that quirky way he did, when he walked over to his second-in-command, who sat perfectly still and patient on the boulder.

            “Your restraint confounds me.” Pan said, a playful uptick of his eyebrow as he pulled more pixie dust from thin air. He held his palm open inches from Felix’s face and blew.

            The glowing powder swirled into Felix’s face, seeping down his neck as it got trapped in his hood, tingling his spine as it traveled down to his toes. He didn’t dare blink when Pan’s face was so close to his; the elation from flying _paled_ to the surge he felt from that face, inches from his; those emerald eyes, trained on his.

            Pan smirked and stepped back. Felix rose and the two floated off the ground together, easily catching up with the less experienced fliers. Pan took the lead and spread out his arms, racing through the clouds, daring the other boys to keep up with him. He never once looked back; if you fell behind, he’d let you fall. While the other boys played and somersaulted through the clouds, throwing bits of white puffs at each other, getting drenched, Felix calmly took his place just behind Pan’s right shoulder. He wasn’t interested in clouds. He’d flown through thousands of them, and at this point, they were old. There was only one thing he ever found interesting anymore.

 

            They landed in a wheat field; Pan’s feet touching down soundlessly; Felix’s _almost_ as graceful; followed by the noisy crash-landings of the others. There were giggles as wheat was tumbled through and straw got stuck in hair and capes.

            “Perfect place for a fire.” Pan said, and they started gathering. No mind was paid to whatever poor farmer was losing his crops to the playful antics of boys building a bonfire in his field. If he had any young sons he was probably about to lose them as well; a few square yards of lost wheat wouldn’t matter in comparison.

            The boys built the fire and loudly started to dance around it, and Pan started to play his enchanted pipes. Splinters of silver ran from Felix’s ears and through his brain as he let the song take over him. He hardly ever danced; but when he heard that song, he couldn’t help it- as if any of them could. Hundreds of years flowed together for him as hundreds of bonfires danced before his eyes; all of them a blur in his memory. The boys around the fires changed, the places changed, even Felix changed as he slowly grew taller- but one thing remained the same. Felix glanced over at his king as he played, his eyelashes lowered as he looked at the ground, his lips flush as he blew gently over the pipes.

            The tingling spread through Felix’s body and started to collect in one particular spot between his legs. He sweated beneath his hood as the tingling turned to a burn, and then fire. He was grateful for all the layers of cloth he wore to hide the reaction happening between his legs. His cheeks burned; his ears flamed. He became lost in Pan’s music like he hadn’t ever before. His lungs panted for air; he couldn’t catch his breath.

            “Felix.”

            Pan spoke it in a low tone, barely above a whisper. Yet Felix heard it on the other side of the bonfire, though it roared between them. He would always here Pan call.

            He was at his king’s side in an instant.

            “Yes, Pan?”

            The boy who ruled over him raised his green eyes, boring them into Felix’s skull, into his mind, into his heart. Did he know what Felix had just been feeling? Would he be angry, furious? Was Felix about to lost his title as Longest Lived Lost Boy?

            “Nearly all of them have come. But there is one boy here I sense isn’t getting to us. Go find out what’s the matter.”

            Relief washed over Felix. Pan was sending him on the most important part of the mission. Obtaining stragglers. He still trusted him completely.

            “Understood.” he said, and headed off towards the village. He heard Pan’s flute beginning to play as he walked away, and the feeling tried to return. He shook it off and stepped out of the fog. He had a mission to complete.

           

            The village was quiet. A few crickets chirped; a horse snorted softly. Felix walked boldly down the center of the street, his club slung over his shoulder, waiting to be used on whatever poor soul crossed his path. He eyed the houses, searching. Bedroom windows were open where boys had been sleeping and were now gone, curtains eerily billowing in the summer breeze, unaware of the wails they would hear in the morning when their frantic parents would begin to search for their sons. Then he passed other windows, boys sleeping peacefully in their beds, unable to hear the call of Pan’s song; the call of the Lost.

            Felix never quite understood it. Children only came to Pan if they were already Lost; if they knew they were already unwanted. So why did the parents care suddenly in the morning? His surely didn’t. His father, too drunk to even know how many children he had, his mother too busy finding other men to sleep with, and then the way his father would come into his bedroom…

            Felix angrily swung his club at a rat that scurried across the street. It landed with a thud and a squeak against the nearest wall. He would not think of that. He would not think of them. His life before Neverland was irrelevant. There _was_ no life before Neverland, before Pan.

            His heart fluttered just at the thought of the name.

            He heard a ruckus, and turned to the left to see a building with a candle burning. He walked around the side and peered in through a window covered in bars.

            Inside was a boy, perhaps fourteen, shouting to be let out, “or else.” He was locked in a jail cell. Ah, so that was the problem.

            “Pssst.” Felix whispered.

            The boy hushed and looked around frantically.

            “At the window, moron.”

            The boy turned, his eyes wild, his brown hair unkempt, his clothes disheveled. He was absolutely one of them.

            “Do you hear it?” he whispered. Felix smirked.

            “Every night.”

            “Get me out of here, so I can go to it.”

            “That’s the goal.”

            Felix looked up and surveyed the window. It looked sturdy. Unlike Pan, who was powerful wherever he went, Felix had no magic when he left Neverland. He’d have to find some other way to get the boy out.

            “There’s a key, on the table.” the kid said, pointing. Right, of course. A key.

            Felix walked around to the front of the building and entered through the door, not particularly caring if he encountered anyone. Luckily for them, no one was there.

            He walked over to the table and slid the key off the side, catching it with a finger. He twirled it around as he walked towards the door to the jail cell.

            “Anybody gonna come when I let you out?” Felix asked.

            The kid snorted.

            “Like anyone cares what happens to me.”

            Felix smiled. Not a smirk, not half-grin, but a full, true smile.

            “They do now.”

            He turned the key and the lock fell to the floor. The kid pushed the gate open and ran down the street towards Pan’s song. Felix chuckled to himself. He agreed completely, of course; though he was better now at not showing it.

            He stepped back into the street as well and started to walk back the way he came. He reached the edge of town and stepped into the wheat, walking blindly, unable to see over the tall stalks. No matter; he would just listen for Pan’s…

            He stopped. He listened.

            He heard nothing.

            He shrugged, and pressed on, certain that Pan had a good reason to stop playing, and would start again any minute. He looked up at the stars as he walked, a chill going through him at their unfamiliar patterns. Whatever realm they were in, he didn’t think he’d been in it before. The twinkling white specs made no sense to him.

            He continued walking, for a good ten minutes, and slowed down. He should have been at the fire by now. He sniffed the air, trying to smell the smoke. Nothing.

            He listened again. The night was silent.

            Had they…left?

            He shook his head. Impossible. Pan would never leave him behind. He pressed onward, walking faster, his heart beating rapidly as he became more and more lost. He walked for what seemed like hours, until he came to the edge of the field…the _other_ edge. He looked out and saw a farmhouse silhouetted against the night sky, bathed in moonlight. He turned around and looked back, and saw only wheat.

            The night was silent. The fire was gone.

            His veins turned to ice.

            He’d been left behind.


	2. Chapter 2

“There he is. Mama, he’s comin’ round!”

            _Mama?_

            The shuffle of feet. A splash of cold water on his face. Felix coughed and sat up.

            “There there, now.” a woman’s voice said. A _woman_?! How in hell did a woman end up in Never…

            He opened his eyes to a searingly bright, hot sun. There was no forest to be found. Only wheat to his right and…an old woman and a teenage girl to his left. His heart started to race. He started to panic.

            He wasn’t in Neverland. It was _daytime_. And he was _elsewhere_.

            He almost blacked out again.

            “Here, son. We’ll help you up.”

            A man’s voice this time. Strong arms wrapped under his armpits and hoisted him to his feet.

            “What’s your name, son? Are you hurt?”

            He looked for his club. It was nowhere.

            He yanked his hood over his head. It at least blocked out the harsh sunlight.

            “Son?”

            Stop calling me that, call me anything, _anything_ but that.

            “Felix.” he said.

            “Felix.” the woman repeated. “Well you look like you’ve been hurt by those bandits that came through town last night and stole the neighbor’s kids. You just come inside with us, and I’ll make you a nice breakfast.”

            He didn’t know what else to do. His stomach growled. He’d never eaten dinner. So he went.

            The farmhouse was in good repair and neatly kept. He hated it at first sight. It was the picture-perfect lie; the illusion of a “good home”, of “wholesomeness”, of all that other bullshit that grown-ups talked about that didn’t exist. There was no such thing. Life was harsh, cruel, and ugly. People said they cared about you, but they didn’t. Pan was the only one…

            He shut that thought up. He’d be back. As soon as he realized Felix wasn’t with him, he’d be back.

            There was a table, with chairs and plates and silverware. Pancakes were plopped on a plate before him. Felix _refused_ to eat with silverware. He would not sink to such a level. He ate it with his hands and felt better when they all stared at him, this “happy” family.

            Then they went about their business, working. Everyone was working. Working, working, working… _not_ playing. Hell. He was in hell. That’s what happened; he’d died and was in hell.

            Well if he was already damned he didn’t see a reason to lift a finger. So he sat in the chair at the table all day, and completely succeeded at thinking about nothing.

            Dinner was presented. He didn’t want to eat but his stomach made him. He didn’t bother to taste the food. He just swallowed it as fast as he could.

            “Well, Anne. Why don’t you show Felix to the guest room?”

            “Come on.” she said, her blonde pigtails bouncing over her breasts as she stood. Felix turned his head away.

            She grabbed his hand and he yanked it back, hiding it under his cloak. He may or may not have growled under his breath.

            He rose to follow her, if only to prevent _that_ from happening again. She led him up a staircase…it had been centuries since he’d seen a staircase…and down some hallway and into a room. He hated it. He’d slept outside for the past four hundred or so years. The only walls he knew were of treehouses; hastily and sloppily built, full of crooked boards and holes. These walls were impenetrable. He felt trapped.

            “There you go. You can just lie down there on that bed…”

            He collapsed onto it face-first and didn’t move.

            “Okay, then. Goodnight.” she said, but she didn’t move from the doorway.

            Felix waited for what seemed like forever for her to go away. Instead, she stepped into the room, shutting the door softly behind her. He didn’t know what she wanted. He didn’t care. If he’d only had his club with him he could make her scamper off in two….

            Her hand reached the top of his hood and began to pull it down. He jerked away and pressed his back against the wall.

            “What is it?” she said, her eyes blue and wide with curiosity. She leaned forward, her breasts hanging low, straining against the thin shirt she wore.

            “Don’t you want some company?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, batting her eyelashes. She was flirting with him. Felix wanted to vomit.

            “No.”

            “Awww, why not?” she asked, reaching out with her hand again, placing it on his knee.

            Weird, unnamable, powerful emotions surged through Felix. They were all hideous. He rose to his feet instantly, his hand around her throat, towering over her. He felt some satisfaction at the sudden fear in her eyes; glad that she now felt what he felt.

            “Leave. Me. Alone.”

            She nodded, her eyes watering, and he released her. She hurried from the room and shut the door behind her, and nobody came to bother him again.

            Felix lay in the bed, staring out the window at the moon. It was foreign, and yet familiar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a bed- and yet he felt almost as if he’d never left. His stomach churned. He felt sick. He was numb. He thought nothing.

            He didn’t know when he dosed off, or _how_ he even managed to sleep under such circumstances. In his dream he went back home; Neverland was of course, a place of dreams. He saw his log, and his favorite tree to lean on around the fire as the younger boys danced. He saw his hammock, the one he’d spent a year perfecting and would kill anyone who dared sit in it. He saw the boys playing, the new recruits whooping and hollering with joy as they realized they were free to do whatever they desired. He walked through camp, smiling to be home. He reached the edge of it and started to walk through the forest, enjoying the comforting sounds of parrots screeching in the trees. Sunlight filtered down between the leaves, landing along the path, a path he could walk with his eyes closed, it was so familiar.

            He heard a sound, and turned. His heart jumped into his throat as he saw Pan, standing next to a giant tree. He walked forward, his eyes burning green, his expression as mischievous as always.

            “Pan, I didn’t mean to…”

            Pan lifted a finger and put it over his lips. Felix could feel the warmth of his hand, the soft but undeniably powerful touch of his fingers. Pan’s eyes locked onto his as he traced his thumb over Felix’s lips, slowly, dragging his fingers lightly along Felix’s jawline and down his neck. Heat rose in Felix’s veins, his breath coming ragged and fast. Pan smirked and his eyes fell, staring between Felix’s legs, at what was coming to attention there. 

Felix blushed, hot and embarrassed and too turned on to care. Pan’s hand slid down his side and tickled over his stomach, teasing him, toying with him. Then Pan’s eyes rose again, his other hand sliding up the back of Felix’s head, his fingers brushing through his tangled blond hair. Pan pulled downward, and Felix was powerless to fight him. Pan’s lips moved up to meet his and Felix moaned into the kiss. His mind was racing with a thousand unnamable thoughts, none of which mattered. If Pan wanted him this way, he would get him this way. Felix was his, to do with as he pleased.

            Felix sat up in bed, panting, sweating, pulse pounding in his ears.

            No. No, he had _not_.

            He had _not!_

            He looked down between his legs and it was obvious that he had.

            The pressure was intense, and his mind wandered back to the dream against his will. He knew he shouldn’t want this. This sort of thing didn’t _belong_ in Neverland.

            He remembered he wasn’t _in_ Neverland.

            That’s why this was happening, that’s why…

            The thoughts of the dream invaded his mind again. He lay back down on the bed and let it continue while he was awake, unable to stop it. Pan forcing their lips together, Pan’s hand sliding down his side, down his stomach…

            His own hand struggled to get around the many layers of cloth that he wore. In his mind it was Pan’s hand, finally getting in, finally touching bare skin. Felix gasped as he touched himself. He rubbed himself shamelessly; the guilt that he should _not be thinking this_ erased by the intensity of the pleasure. Pan’s eyes stared at him, a smirk on his face, one eyebrow cocked as he moved his hand up and down Felix’s dick, over and over, faster and faster. Pleasure spread through Felix like needles; the way Pan’s song had spread through him when he’d danced around the fire last night. It was that feeling; that new feeling that he’d never felt before. It was overpowering. He was helpless to resist it.

            The pressure built and he worked harder, sweating, panting, his body splayed on the bed in a manner that would kill him if anyone saw it. He pulled harder and faster, the pleasure growing and building, until something shook loose and it all sprang forth in a rush.

            “Peter!” he cried, unable to control his voice, his body, his heart. White mess got all over his hand, his pants, his furs. Then the feeling left him in a rush, leaving him to crash into a thicket of brambles. He rolled over onto his side and sobbed, not caring about the mess he’d just made of himself. He knew now why he was left behind. He was no longer a boy. Somehow, he’d… _grown up_.

            He cried harder then, pain ripping through his heart inconsolably, shoving the offending body part that had betrayed him back into the folds of his clothes. He was worse than Lost, now. He was a grown-up. He was nothing.

            “ _There_ you are.”

            Felix’s heart leapt to life and he jerked his head up. There, in the corner of the room, stood his king.

            “Pan!”

            He leapt off the bed, completely forgetting himself, and fell at Pan’s feet.

            “You were expecting someone else to fly in through the window in the middle of the night?”

            “I thought…I thought…” he started sobbing again. Fuck, he was such a wreck. “I thought you’d _left_ me!”

            Felix wanted to cling to him, but he knew Pan’s rules about touching him. Which was never. So he bowed his head to the floor to show his remorse.

            “Well I did.” Pan replied. Felix’s heart stung. “Though not on purpose. We were on our way home when I realized you were missing. Of course by then, the sun was coming up, and I couldn’t come back for you until the next night… _why_ are you crying?”

            Felix sat up, remaining on the floor at Pan’s feet, and hastily wiped the tears from his face. He dare not explain the roller coaster of emotions he’d gone through just before Pan arrived- nor what he’d been thinking. If Peter knew that he…

            “Stop trying to think of how to lie to me. I want the plain truth. Why didn’t you come back last night?”

            Felix froze, petrified. He tried to think of some excuse…and then knew it would be pointless. Pan would know if he was lying.

            He hung his head with his shame.

            “I couldn’t hear your flute.” he admitted.

            He dared to look up, to see if Pan was angry. Instead, he looked…curious?

            “Really.”

            Felix nodded.

            “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been feeling…unwell…ever since we got here last night.”

            Pan’s expression was unreadable.

            At that moment, the door flew open and Anna or whatever her name was barged in.

            “Felix, I was wondering if…”

            Pan raised his palm and her entire body froze in mid-sentence and mid-stride, surrounded by a soft green light. Felix stared at her, horrified. The way she was dressed was…was she in her _undergarments_?

            “Pan, I…”

            Peter reached down with his hand and cupped it under Felix’s chin. Felix’s eyes grew wide as his heart pounded in his chest. In his emotionally fragile state, his mind failed to comprehend anything anymore.

            “Let’s get you out of this horrible place.” Peter said, his eyes boring into Felix, and he was terrified that he would see into Felix’s mind, would _know_ , somehow.

            Peter reached into his tunic and pulled out a vial of pixie dust. He kept his other hand cupped under Felix’s chin, and pulled the cork out with his teeth. He emptied it over Felix’s head, the glowing green powder coating him, and Felix closed his eyes, waiting.

            Nothing.

            Pan’s hand left his face and his eyes flew open. His king was hovering over the floor, headed towards the window. Felix willed himself to fly after him. He’d just been drowned in dust. He’d done this a thousand times. His feet didn’t leave the floor.

            Pan floated out the window, and Felix panicked. He ran to the sill and stopped at the edge. He wasn’t flying. He wasn’t _flying!_

            His eyes flew up and saw Pan leaving…

            “Peter, wait!”

            Everything froze.

            Nobody was ever, ever allowed to call him that. Ever.

            Felix didn’t care. He’d rather die than live like this…broken. Sick. _Grown-up_.

            Pan turned and flew back down to him.

            He reached out his hand, and Felix winced at whatever magic was about to be his undoing. Nothing happened.

            “Well?” Pan said.

            Felix opened his eyes to see the hand remaining extended.

            “I…I…I can’t fly!” he cried. Pan rolled his eyes.

            “Well that was obvious.”

            “Then…”

            “Just take my hand, idiot. Or do you want to stay here with… _that_.” he said, gesturing at the frozen girl who stood, barely clad, mouth wide open in an unfinished sentence.

            Felix turned and grabbed Pan’s hand. Warm, glowing heat spread from his fingertips and palm down his arm, through his shoulders, and up to his brain. It spread down his chest, his stomach, and out to his legs. His entire body radiated from the inside. He felt Peter’s hand clasp tighter around his own, and his feet were lifting off the floor. He rose up and out the window and they ascended into the sky, his king leading the way, Felix following behind him, just behind his right shoulder, linked by their hands. Felix didn’t know whether his nightmare was over or whether it was just beginning, but he felt the warmth of his Pan’s palm against his, and he hardly cared.

           

            The flight back was silent at first. Felix’s mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, and Pan didn’t say anything, so nobody talked. Felix knew he’d changed last night. Something had happened to him. He was sure it was…whatever happened that made childhood end. The signs were all there. Not hearing Pan’s flute. Not being able to fly. His…fantasy.

            Besides that, he couldn’t recall a _single_ time Pan had come back for someone who’d been left behind. “Should have paid attention.” was always what he said. Those who fell behind, stayed behind. Always. He never cared.

            Felix knew he mattered more to Pan than the other boys…but they were _boys_. He was…he was…

            “Oh do stop. Your face is so tortured it’s causing _me_ discomfort.” Pan said, his voice clear and crisp in the cold, cloudless sky. The second star to the right was growing brighter, but they still had a long way to go.

            “Why did you come back for me?”

            It was the stupidest thing he’d ever said in his life.

            Pan snorted.

            “Why wouldn’t I?”

            “You never come back for anyone.”

            Pan stopped flying and let go of Felix’s hand. His heart plummeted as he prepared to fall…and he went nowhere. He was flying.

            Relief flushed through his body and his shoulders relaxed. They must be closer to Neverland than he thought. Maybe he just couldn’t fly away from it anymore. That wasn’t so bad.

            He felt Pan’s hand around his throat, his grip ten times stronger than the boyish fingers let on they could hold; yet leaving Felix just enough air to breathe. Felix held his breath anyway and stared at the face his life revolved around, at the eyes flashing anger.

            “ _You_ are not just _anyone_.” Pan growled. “I thought you knew that.”

            Felix tried to nod, but he couldn’t move his head in Pan’s grip.

            “I do.” he croaked.

            Pan let go, his anger receding, his face softening.

            “I’ve spent four hundred years training you to be perfect.” he said. “And you nearly are. I’m not going to throw you away like some new recruit.”

            Felix stared into Pan’s face and his heart began to race. Pan had called him _nearly perfect_. The words of praise were all he had ever lived his life for; all he’d ever hoped to hear. Not only that, but Pan broke one of his own rules for him. _He came back for him_. Felix _mattered_ to him. Blood rushed to his cheeks and his ears flushed scarlet red, and he was more grateful than ever for his hood. Pan started rising above him, flying higher…

            “Felix.”

            Felix looked up, wondering why Pan was flying higher like that.

            “Felix, you’re sinking.”

            He looked down and the wind pushed his hood up off his face. No, no…

            A hand clasped his own, and the heat from Peter’s touch jolted through his palm, up his arm, and through his body. His heart trembled. He stopped sinking.

            “What is going _on_ with you?”

            “I just…had a really bad experience today…”

            He looked at Pan’s face and again, it had a completely unreadable expression. The boy shook his head, his brown hair shifting with it in the starlight. He turned away, flying towards home again, pulling Felix behind him. Felix could hardly think. Pan came back for him. Called him perfect. Said he needed him. Besides that, his palm was on fire where he touched him…he was _allowed_ to touch him…

            Felix’s mind drowned itself in those few repeating thoughts for the rest of the flight home. When they landed at camp, everyone else was still asleep. Peter let go of his hand and he nearly fell over from the loss.

            Pan quirked one eyebrow up in that way he _always_ did, and yet for some reason, _this_ time, Felix couldn’t stop staring at it.

            “Just…get some rest, will you?” he said.

            “Yes, Pan.”

            He vanished. Felix gasped, as if the air around him had vanished, too.

            He sank gratefully into his own hammock. It was untouched, still perfect. The woven vines surrounded his body in a comforting embrace and it was then he noticed how truly exhausted he was. He was asleep in minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun glinted off Peter’s brown hair as he laughed, that mischievous grin on his face that declared that he knew he was going to win. Felix followed him blindly, unsure of what game they were even playing, and hardly caring. All he wanted to do was spend time with Peter, and he was letting him.

            He chased him through the forest and out onto Cedar Bluff, the salty air striking his face. Peter laughed as he led him over the rocks, dangerously close to the edge, taking leaps that no normal human could take, daring Felix to follow.

            Felix tried, and slipped. He fell, down the side of the cliff, and this was it, this was the end of him…

            Peter’s strong arms were there to catch him just before he hit the crags below. He laid him gently on his back and smacked his head with his palm.

            “Dumbass.” he said, a playful smirk on his lips. “Just because I will never let you fall doesn’t mean you need to go _trying_ to get hurt.”

            “Sorry, Peter, I…”

            Peter leapt on top of him and his blood turned cold. He’d gotten away with calling him that the _first_ time, but…

            Pan leaned down, resting his elbows in the sand beside Felix’s head, leaning his chin in his hands. Their faces were inches away.

            “You can call me that.” he said, his eyelashes shifting downward as he glanced down at Felix’s lips. “I’ll break my rules for you.”

            Peter brought his face closer, until Felix could feel his breath wash over his lips. He felt the warmth as they touched, Peter’s perfect, flush lips against Felix’s dry, chapped ones. His heart pounded in his throat as Pan kissed him, over and over, holding him down into the sand with his body and his magic, never letting Felix go, never leaving him behind…

            Felix sat up in his hammock, panting. He frantically looked around the camp, to find it empty, the bright morning sun high in the sky. Just how late had he slept?

            He looked down between his legs with relief that his clothes hid the evidence of his dream. Last time, he’d done something about that. But then, he was alone. Now, he wouldn’t _dare_.

            He rolled out of his hammock and stretched, his blood still pulsing loudly in his ears. He’d thought this… _thing_ would go away once he was home. Maybe it just needed time. He went to grab for his club, only to find it missing. Right. Well, that gave him something to do. He set out into the forest, intent on finding a perfect branch and stone to start making himself a new weapon.

           

            He was sitting happily on a mossy rock, whittling away at the thick branch he’d found, shaping it to fit the rock he’d chosen. It was perfectly round on one side, to fit snugly into the crook of the handle, and deadly pointy on the other. Felix smiled as he worked. One crack to the skull with this, and any beast or pirate would be instantly dead.

            “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

            Scamper flew past him, his bare feet kicking up dust from the path, with Nibs not far behind. They vanished into the brush on the other side of the path, and Felix went back to his work.

            Not three minutes later and a group of four more boys rushed passed, all barefoot, most of them shirtless.

            “Hurry up, Pan said first ten there get a prize!”

            Felix smiled at the excitement in their voices. Whatever the prize was, it was something he’d had a thousand times. Candy. Gold. Some toy. Not what he really wanted…

            “Felix, didn’t you hear? We’re playing at the swimming hole today, come on!”

            Felix looked up just in time to see Curly’s brown hair bounce past him, and he sighed. It _was_ hot, and he was…sticky in some places. A swim would feel nice.

            He got to the edge of the water and there were twenty boys already splashing and screaming with glee. He smiled and reached up to untie his cloak..

            Powerful hands pressed into his back and shoved him, head-first, into the pond. He yelped and landed with an enormous splash, courtesy of being the biggest _and_ also fully dressed. Water swirled around his head and he breached the surface to the sound of laughter.

            _His_ laughter. Granted, all the boys were laughing, but Pan’s voice pierced through the din and invaded Felix’s ears as if his voice was the only voice. Felix looked up to see Pan doubled over, laughing with glee. Felix smiled and walked out of the water towards him- very sluggishly, because he was bogged down by so much clothing.

            Peter giggled.

            “You look like a wet cat.”

            Everyone else giggled.

            Felix’s small smile spread into a wide smirk. He reached out his arm and wrapped it around Pan’s neck, bringing him to himself. He tipped backward, throwing both of them into the water, letting go as soon as they were under- though he really, _really_ didn’t want to.

            They emerged to silence. All eyes stared at them; waiting, wondering what Pan would do…

            He splashed Felix in the face and laughed.

            “Asshole, you got my boots wet!”

            “You got my _everything_ wet!” Felix said, a wide grin on his face. Pan dove at him and they wrestled, each trying to get the other underwater first. Pan wasn’t using magic. He was just roughhousing, like he used to; like it had been so many years ago. _This_ was the Peter he loved. This was what Neverland was about!

            Their playful scuffle erupted into action in the boys around them. Soon everybody was splashing and playing in the water, enjoying the heat of the sun and the coolness of the pond. At some point Felix finally got his clothes off; they sat in a wet heap at the shore as he swam in his trunks, picking up the little ones and throwing them high in the air, squealing with delight as they landed with a splash.

            The new boys taught them a new game. Marco Polo, it was called. It was _incredibly_ fun, especially the part where cheating seemed to be encouraged. All of the worries of the past two days vanished from Felix’s mind. Everything was normal. Everything was right.

            When the sun started setting, Peter had the boys build an enormous bonfire in the middle of camp; bigger than usual to dry their soggy clothes. Dripping animal skins and rough-woven linen hung from makeshift lines all around the camp, and the boys danced dressed in nothing but trunks and loincloths. Felix sat leaning with his back against a huge trunk, a rounded crook in it perfect for relaxing into, his hood pulled down far over his head.

            Though he’d felt perfectly carefree earlier, when night fell the feelings came back. He was compelled to get dressed, _fully_ dressed, even though his clothes were still sopping wet. He glanced over at Pan, playing his flute as the boys danced, and was both grateful and disappointed that Pan was fully dressed also- dry as a bone from a spell.

            Felix still couldn’t hear the song he played. But it didn’t bother him the way it had yesterday. So he was different now. He still _belonged_. He was home. Pan wanted him here. That was what mattered.

            “Jolly good day we had.” Pan stated, suddenly appearing beside Felix. A jolt ran down Felix’s spine. Did he _have_ to do that? Was it really too much trouble to just walk the ten steps?

            Pan sat down with a thump beside him, leaning his back against the same tree, so close their shoulders were touching. Tiny electric sparks spread down Felix’s arm where it touched Pan’s. Five layers of cloth did nothing to quell the emotions he felt.

            “It was.” he said, in the low, deep voice he was accustomed to. The innocence from playing in the sunshine was now completely gone.

            “You’re wet as a fish.” Pan said, and reached out his hand. He placed it on Felix’s shoulder and a wave of magic was sent through is clothes, over his skin, drying him…drying _every_ part of him, touching him in every place, and the burning in his face spread to his ears, making it suddenly very hot under his hood.

            “Huh.” Pan said, and for a few seconds, neither of them moved or spoke. Then Pan pulled his hand away and leaned back against the tree, his side pressed up against Felix’s side, so close. _Why was he so close?_

            He lifted his flute to his lips, and the boys’ dancing became wilder and louder. Felix heard only the air blowing from Pan’s lips, his skin tingling from thinking about how close those lips were, that if he only turned his head just a bit, he could watch them play…

            “You’re awfully quiet, even for you.” Pan said. How he could play and speak at the same time was still something that escaped Felix’s understanding.

            “I still can’t hear it.” he confessed. He dared to glance over, hoping the shadows beneath his hood would hide the raging blush in his cheeks. Pan frowned, thinking.

            A smirk played across his lips, and his eyes sparked the way they did when he had a brilliant idea.

            “Perhaps another song.” he said, and Felix opened his mouth to argue, when he heard a note.

            His heart leapt into his throat. He could hear it! More notes floated to his ears; unfamiliar ones, strange ones. They were beautiful and slow, nothing like the normal energetic music that Pan usually played. The boys didn’t seem to notice the change; they still whooped and hollered with glee around the campfire.

            The song Felix heard was deep and penetrating. It didn’t stop at his ears. It sang through his skull, electrifying him down his spine, lighting up his skin. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt faint. He forgot how to think. He was drowning in Pan’s music and it was heaven. The tension in his muscles left him and he relaxed; it was soothing even as it invaded him and took him over. He slouched, and without consciously thinking about it at all, leaned his head to the side to rest on Pan’s shoulder.

            “Hmmm.” Pan said, even as the song played. “You seem to like this tune.”

            His voice was playful, even as it was deeply serious. Pan sounded…flirty?

            Felix’s head was swimming. He could barely think enough to speak.

            “It’s nice.” he managed. He stared out into the fire, the flames as mesmerizing as the song, hardly noticing when some boys stopped dancing to stare at them.

            “Pan is letting Felix lay on him.”

            “Is he sick?”

            “Is he dying?”

            “He looks drunk.”

            A flick of Pan’s finger and the gawkers all stumbled to their asses.

            “Mind your own business.”

            His voice was quiet, but threatening. They all scurried to their feet, nodding hastily.

            “Yes, Pan.”

            “Sorry, Pan.”

            They went back to dancing. No one else dared stare.

            The song continued to invade Felix, ringing through his mind, his heart, his body.

            “How are you feeling?” Pan asked him, his voice as smooth as honey, his hand sliding up to the top of Felix’s head, stroking it over his hood.

            “Really…nice.” was all he could manage. He knew he was under a spell. He didn’t care at all.

            “Why don’t you lie down.” Pan said, his hand gently guiding Felix’s head off his shoulder, to sink down past his chest, to land in his lap. Felix stared up at him, dazed, drowning, happy.

            Pan’s fingers slid along his cheek, sending electricity through his face. Peter reached up and pulled his hood down, exposing the fire in his ears, the burning in his cheeks. All Felix could do was stare up at him, entranced, his eyes half-closed, his mouth upturned in a smile more genuine than any he’d made in his life.

            Pan looked down at him with a smirk on his face and a shine in his eyes that he didn’t recognize. Felix eyes were bound to watching Pan’s lips as they played over the flute, so flush, all he could do was think about how he wanted to kiss them.

            “Your hair is a disaster.” Pan said, his voice soft and low. The fingers of his free hand were weaving through Felix’s hair, or as much as they could manage with the years of tangles there. Wherever Pan’s fingertips brushed his scalp, Felix glowed. He forgot how to use all of his muscles. He felt paralyzed. Not that he would ever, ever want to move.

            Overcome by the song, his mind wasn’t hassled by questions, such as why this was happening, or where this might be going. Felix just lay there, helpless, enjoying every second of Pan’s fingers on him, stroking him, touching him. Heat rose from his body in every place, but most of all between his legs. He could hardly think enough to care. Pan let go of his flute with his hand. It hovered in the air and the song continued, the boys still dancing and ignoring what was going on in the crook of the tree trunk.

            He felt Pan’s fingers working through his hair, and vaguely realized he was doing something. He felt a tickle at his cheek, and saw a dark feather, the end of it moving in time with the tugs he felt on his hair as Pan weaved it in. He had no idea why Pan was doing that. He also didn’t care. Pan could do whatever he wanted to his hair. He could do whatever he wanted to Felix.

            He closed his eyes and felt nothing but Pan’s fingers. He had no idea he could be so… _gentle_. Normally, when he thought of Pan, he thought of power. Cunning. Cleverness. Cruelty, even. He’d never known Pan to be gentle. Somehow, after four centuries, Pan still managed to surprise him. With all his inhibitions removed by the song, Felix allowed the smile he felt to appear on his lips.

            Pan finished weaving in the feather. His fingertips brushed softly over Felix’s ear and down the side of his neck. Felix inhaled, his heart racing. He looked up at Pan’s face and saw his eyes half-closed, his lips pursed and flushed as he breathed softly through them. Could it be he felt the same way? Could that be _possible_?

            Pan’s fingers ghosted over him, traveling down his neck smoothly, deliberately. His fingers started to work at Felix's scarf, untying it. He looked up into Pan's face and their eyes met, Felix’s heart pounding so loudly he was nearly deaf. Pan was staring into his eyes, green and bright, their gazes locked, unwavering. The scarf came undone, revealing his neck and his throat. Pan’s lazily dragged his fingers up and down Felix’s neck, making the hairs raise on his skin and his blood rush to his ears and face.

            Peter’s fingers drifted up Felix’s neck to his cheek. Unable to move, he could only close his eyes and feel as the fingers slipped gently over his cheek, across his nose, and over the scar on the other side of his face.

            Gradually, very, very purposefully, Peter slid his thumb down Felix’s jawline and over his chin, to his lips. He traced the pad of his thumb casually over every inch of pink; top and bottom, teasing Felix.

            _Daring_ him.

            Not sure if this would be his only chance, Felix slowly puckered his lips and placed a kiss on Pan’s thumb. He didn’t pull away. Heart pounding, chest swelling, he kissed it again, languidly, wetter than necessary, making his intentions clear. Pan’s thumb did not move. Felix kissed it more, over and over, his lips gliding down from the pad to the base and up again. He looked up and saw Pan’s unwavering eyes, never leaving his face.

            He opened his mouth and let his tongue brush over Peter’s skin.

            He felt Pan’s breath stop.

            A jolt of lightening shot through Felix’s body at his reaction. Pan had _reacted_.

            Felix grew bolder and dragged the tip of his tongue along the length of his thumb, and Pan _hummed_. Looking up into his eyes, Felix saw a smirk, and then the thumb was pressed deep into his mouth.

            “Uhhmmm…” Felix said. His entire body burned. Electricity and fire raged through him, collecting between his legs, his layers of clothes doing nothing to hide what was growing there now. Driven by want and encouraged by the song, he sucked, pulling Pan’s thumb into his mouth, stroking it with is tongue. It tasted like salt and sweat and dirt, but to him it was heaven. He flattened his tongue against the pad of Pan’s thumb and ran it up the length, some part of his mind vaguely aware of what it represented.

            Pan slowly pulled his thumb out of Felix’s mouth and rested it again on his lips. Felix kissed it, his eyes barely open, darting up to Pan’s face when he dared. An unmistakable blush was spread across Peter’s cheeks; his eyes were half-lidded as Felix’s were, and Felix became sure.

            Peter was enjoying this as much as he was.

            He turned his head to follow along his other fingers, kissing each one lazily, wetly, following the skin with his tongue, enjoying the soft hums his actions drew. He felt the vibrations of the voice he loved, that chest so close, so near to his face. He turned his head towards it…and felt the bulge in Pan’s trousers touch his ear.

            Felix smirked. All doubt about what this was faded to nothing. He looked up at Pan with the most seductive expression he could and turned his face towards the lump in Pan’s trousers. He pressed his lips against it without hesitation; nothing was going to hold him back from this.

            “Uhhhnnn…” Pan said softly, and Felix’s body ignited at the sound. Peter’s eyes were closed now, his head thrown back against the trunk of the tree, his Adam’s apple jutting out into the air. He shakily lifted a hand, and Felix heard the bodies of fifty boys simultaneously hit the ground, unmoving. The flute fell and shattered. Everything became silent, except for the crackling of the bonfire and the heavy breaths rushing in and out of both boys’ mouths.

            Peter’s palms flew to Felix’s face and pulled him up to his level. Pan’s face was flushed deep red, his eyelids half-closed.

            “There. Now they’re all asleep.” he said. He leaned his face forward, drawing Felix’s head towards him, his grip powerful, needy. When their lips brushed, Pan inhaled deeply and drew them together, crushing his lips onto Felix’s. His breath was as fast and heavy as Felix’s heart was beating. Felix groaned into his mouth, turning his body so their chests pressed together, pushing himself into Peter, feeling his body under him, his lips against his.

            Peter opened his mouth and sucked Felix’s bottom lip in. His tongue glided over it and then invaded him, insistent, impatient. Felix trembled and groaned, unable to comprehend why or how this was happening, and not able to care.

            Peter’s tongue slid over Felix’s, tasting him, caressing the inside of his mouth. His heart beat at an impossible speed, his pulse deafening him to the world beyond the two of them. Peter pushed forward, insistent, until Felix fell onto his back on the ground. Pan spread his body over him, causing Felix to groan deep in his throat. Pan’s hands were still on the sides of his face, his lips hastily opening and sliding closed upon Felix’s over and over. It seemed like he couldn’t stop. Felix surely had no desire to make him.

            Peter’s lips left his to place kisses along his jaw. Each one left Felix’s skin screaming in pleasure, little spots of drool Pan left behind doing nothing to cool the heat. The hand Pan had on his check moved to under his chin and forced it up, exposing Felix’s throat. Peter kissed under his chin and over his Adam’s apple. Felix groaned, and Peter hummed. The vibrations shook through every one of his nerves.

            Peter kissed down the side of Felix’s neck, slowly, sucking, marking him where his scarf normally covered his skin. He moved his legs to straddle Felix and rolled his hips down, pressing his dick into Felix’s. He bucked up, a whine escaping from him as Peter continued to suck at his neck. He ground down again, and Felix’s hands flew to Peter’s hips, pulling him closer. Felix lost any sense of shame or self-control and bucked up into Pan’s cock, rubbing his own against it, pulling Pan down by his hips to get him closer, harder, _more._ Sweat beaded on his forehead as he moved faster and faster, the pleasure in his entire body collecting in that one place.

            Pan pushed up on his hands so his face hovered over him and ground down again, this time repeating the motion in rhythm with Felix’s desperate rocking. Their eyes met again, both half-lidded, both faces flushed, both panting and sweating from effort.

            “Mmmm…” Pan said, closing his eyes, and his body started to shake. He drove down into Felix even harder, with impossible energy, and Felix felt the heat and wetness spread even through their clothes as Pan orgasmed over him, on him, _because_ of him.

            It pushed him over the edge. Felix cried out and clutched Peter’s hips until his fingers turned white. Pulse after pulse of pleasure poured out of him, his body trembling, feelings more intense than he’d ever known rushing through him in waves.

            Peter collapsed on top of him, panting. Felix lay still, his mind reeling, his body quivering from the after effects. Without thinking, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around his king, and now…his something else. His cloak enveloped them both, nearly covering Peter, hiding him from the world…and he allowed it.

            Pan raised his head and looked into Felix’s eyes. A mischievous smile crept across his lips.

            “It’s about time.” he said. “I thought you’d never come around.”

            With his mind clearing, ten thousand questions marched into Felix’s brain and tried to make their way to his lips. They were met with Pan’s finger, hushing him.

            “ _Don’t_ ruin this with talking.” he said. “We have all of tomorrow and all of eternity for talking.”

            Felix nodded, feeling sleepy.

            “Yes, Pan.”

            “Good boy.” he said, placing a kiss on Felix’s cheek and rising to his feet. Felix let his arms fall to his sides, even though letting go of Peter was the _last_ thing he wanted to do. And then he lay there.

            “You want to sleep in the dirt?”

            Felix lazily shook his head no.

            Then he appeared in his hammock, and Pan was nowhere to be found. He must have gone wherever it was he went when he slept- no one knew where that was. But Felix knew he was nearby. Pan was always nearby, always watching. An inerasable smile played across Felix’s lips as he fell asleep, and this time, when he dreamed of Pan, it was all perfect and nothing about it bothered him at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The middle of this chapter is one of the three scenes in this story that have given me the most trouble. I've worked it and re-worked it and it's improved but I've given up on trying to make it perfect. It's pretty close to what I wanted but if you run into anything that doesn't make sense I'm sorry; it's the result of changing it so much.

He slept in again, opening his blurry eyes to an empty camp and the sun high in the sky. He could feel the smile on his face, knew it gave him away, and didn’t care. He felt a tickle at his neck and reached up to his hair. His heart skipped when he felt the feathers still there. It meant last night had been real.

            He rolled out of his hammock and onto his feet in one smooth motion, as he had done ten thousand times, and reached for his club. It still wasn’t there. Right.

            All he wanted to do was seek out Pan and continue…whatever was happening between them. But hundreds of years of habit stopped him from doing so. You didn’t seek Pan. He sought you. And Felix was pretty certain that at some point today, he would be sought.

            He went back to where he’d been yesterday, his half-finished club still exactly where he left it, and started whittling again. He hummed as he worked, not able to do a damn thing about the smile on his face, and not really caring.

            The work took all day. He’d just finished tying the last piece of twine, woven from the toughest vines on Neverland, to hold the rock in place at the end of the handle, when he heard the screaming from Swiftfeet.

            “Pirates! Pirate attack on the western shore, piiiiiiiiiiiiirates!” he carried on, screaming as he ran. Every boy had his job in Pan’s tribe. Swiftfeet was good at basically two things: running and being loud. It made him a pretty damn good messenger.

            “Felix!” he said when he saw him. “Thank God, someone in charge! Pir—”

            “I heard you the first time, Swift.” Felix said, rising to his feet. He _towered_ over the boy. Though now it was starting to dawn on him why he’d been allowed to grow so old. It was nearly impossible for him to keep his characteristic deadpan expression when that thought crossed his mind. Nearly.

            “What should we do, Felix?”

            “You keep doing what you’re good at; warning everybody. We’ll handle the rest.”

            Swift nodded, hopping from foot to foot, staying in place.

            “Why aren’t you running.” he said, his eyes boring out from under his hood at the littler one. Swift stared up into his face, and for a moment Felix wondered if he could tell. If he could see what had happened last night. He shifted his neck a bit to reassure himself that his scarf was back where it belonged, hiding the evidence of Pan’s lips on his neck.

            “How do I tell Pan?” he squeaked.

            “Pan knows.”

            “But I haven’t had a chance to tell…”

            “He knows.”

            Swift nodded, then scurried off, screaming at the top of his eight-year-old lungs.

            Felix slung his club over his shoulder and started to walk towards the beach. Pirates being on the beach wasn’t necessarily bad. It depended why they were there. He hurried, but he didn’t run.

            He emerged from the deep jungle brush onto the western beach to find more pirates than he’d expected…about ten or so…in a standoff with about ten or eleven littler ones.

            “What’s going on here.” he said, keeping his voice low in pitch but letting the volume echo over the beach.

            “Ah, finally. Someone in authority.” a pirate said, stepping forward. He looked familiar, but it wasn’t Hook. He couldn’t remember their names other than Hook, probably because he didn’t care.

            “What are you doing on Pan’s island.” Felix said. The boys parted as he reached them, letting him step in front of them all.

            “These little _scamps_ stole one of our dinghies. We just want it back.” he said, swaggering forward as if he was drunk. Felix had come to believe over the years that all pirates were always drunk. He hated drunkenness.

            “Boys.” Felix said, not turning his gaze from the pirates. “Did you steal the pirates’ boat.”

            He heard snickers behind him and elbows into ribs and whispers to shut up.

            “It seems they stole your boat.” Felix said, never having looked at them. He heard gasps and curses as the boys heard him sell them out.

            “Well good, then you believe us. We’ll just have it back, then.” the pirate said, nodding his head with finality. Felix eyed the slightest movement in the trees; each of the spots carefully chosen by Pan for ambushes and defense. He saw Sharpshot out of the corner of his eye, and Twitch. Some of the best with arrows.

            “Doubtful.” he said.

            The boys snickered behind him again, realizing he was on their side after all. He suspected he’d learned to play such games from Pan. His heart glowed. He forced the feeling not to show in his face.

            The pirate’s face showed shock. Felix smirked.

            “What, did a _pirate_ expect to play fair?” he said. He swung his club down from his shoulder and to his side. They all tensed and moved their hands to their daggers. Did they really want to fight?

            “It looks like you’re a bit outnumbered, Felix.” the pirate who seemed in charge said. “I suggest you simply surrender the boat, and we’ll leave you and your babies alone.”

            Felix sneered.

            “Surrender to pirates? _Never_.” he said. He swung his club, smacking the lead pirate in his face while he was off-guard. He was down and unconscious immediately. The rest of the pirates surged forward, and the littler ones screamed and started to run.

            Arrows flew from the tree tops and from behind boulders. Five pirates fell instantly. The rest got a few more steps in as the shooters had to reload. One came too close to Felix and was met with his club to his teeth. He had a few less now. Another one fell as a bolas appeared from the brush and wrapped around his ankles, sending him face-first into the sand. In seconds all the pirates were down, half of them dead. It could hardly be called a battle.

            The whoops and hollers came from the trees and from the boys on the sand. Some of them attempted to imitate Pan’s crow, and it made Felix chuckle with just how far off they were. He slung his club over his shoulder and sauntered off into the jungle, leaving them to celebrate the victory.

            He walked until the sounds from the beach could no longer be heard, his mind going over what had happened, looking for possible weak spots that might need improvement.

            “Mighty swift victory, Felix.”

            His heart rang at the sound of that voice. He whirled around to see Pan sitting on a log, one foot on the ground, the other knee bent up near his face. He was holding a reed in his hand and was hollowing it out with a metal rod.

            “Swift and the sharpshooters had a lot to do with it.” he said, taking a few steps towards Pan.

            “Oh, don’t sell yourself short. There’s a reason I don’t bother to show up when you’re around. I know you’ve got things handled.” He blew through the reed, dust flying out the other end of it, a partial note singing through it, and went back to filing.

            Why in hell Pan was bothering to actually _make_ something, rather than imagining it, was beyond him. Though probably, it was because he was bored.

            Felix leaned against a trunk and crossed his arms.

            “So you’re saying that if I were less efficient, you’d show up more.”

            Pan laughed, and Felix had no power to keep the smile from his face.

            “I suppose that’s _one_ way of getting me nearer to you.” He hopped down from the log and walked over to Felix, stopping only two feet from his face. “But there are much more pleasant ways.”

            Felix’s ears started to burn and he swallowed, trying to keep his throat from going dry.

            “I was only joking.” he tried to speak, but it only came out in a whisper. “You don’t summon Pan. Pan summons you.”

            The tools vanished from Peter’s hands and he placed a palm on Felix’s left cheek. His fingers drifted to the feathers that dangled there, gently stroking his fingers along them.

            “Coming from any other lips, that statement would be true.” he said, moving his face closer, so that they were only a foot apart.

            “I don’t…understand.” Felix said. It was the best he could do. He was already struggling to think with Pan so close, his fingers touching him, his breath washing over his face.

            Peter’s eyebrow quirked up in that way no one else’s did, and Felix’s knees turned to butter. Pan took a deep, long breath, and spoke very slowly.

            “Name a time,” he said, his face nearer now, so close Felix could feel the heat coming off of his skin, “that you have called my name,” his other hand reached up and stroked Felix’s neck, sending sparks down his spine, “and I have not come.”

            Peter stopped inches from his lips. Felix’s brain took a long time to register that he actually wanted an answer.

            “Um…”

            Pan stepped back, and Felix inhaled, suddenly having air and the ability to think. When _had_ he ever called Peter Pan’s name?

            There was only one time he could think of.

            “I only called you once.” he said. “The night we met. When I was desperate to escape my house. I stood at my window, stared at your star, and called you.”

            A smile spread across Pan’s face, his eyes growing darker even as the smile grew brighter.

            “No, there was a second time.” he said.

            Felix’s brow furrowed as he tried to think.

            “Oh, come now, Felix. Can you not remember an entire two days ago?”

            “When I was stuck outside of Neverland? I didn’t…”

            Peter was instantly an inch from his face again.

            “Oh, but you did.” he said, his smile serpentine. “You were quite busy, thinking about me. Making a mess of yourself, actually.”

            Felix’s eyes grew wide. Pan rolled his eyes.

            “Oh don’t think I don’t know. I was there. I was watching you the entire time. How do you think you ended up on a farm with a girl just your age _dying_ to get in your pants? You think that was an accident?”

            Felix’s knees betrayed him. He sank to the ground and sat on it, dizzy. Of course it wasn’t. Nothing about Pan was _ever_ an accident. Everything was _always_ part of his plan, everything that happened was in his control.

            “You let me grow up.” he said. “You…brought me out of Neverland enough times, for long enough, that I…” he looked down at his hands- his _huge_ hands, by comparison to everyone else’s… “That _this_ happened to me.”

            Pan laughed.

            “That’s what I love about you, Felix! I don’t have to explain anything to you. You _get_ it.”

            Felix stared at a pebble that was in front of him. His head was swimming.

            “But… _why_?”

            Pan laughed again, standing in front of Felix with his feet spread wider than his shoulders, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

            “You’re going to make me take back what I just said, aren’t you? I have to spell this out for you letter by letter.”

            Felix just stared up at him, lost.

            Pan crouched down on his haunches, his sparkling eyes glowing with mischievousness.

            “I’ve been wanting a lover for a very long time.” he said. Felix’s heart practically leapt out of him. _A lover_.

            “But as you can imagine, one of those is a bit impossible to come by…” he gestured at the forest around them with an open palm “…here.”

            He turned back to Felix and put a curled finger under his chin.

            “But, when you came along, I decided you were perfect.”

            Felix stared at him, bug-eyed.

            “ _When_?!”

            Pan shrugged.

            “Oh, I dunno. One or two hundred years ago.”

            Felix shrank away, trying to mold into the tree trunk behind him. “You _made_ me fall in love with you?!”

            Peter’s hand fell to his side and he stared, unblinking, a blush coming to his cheeks at Felix’s admission.

            “No.” he whispered, clenching his jaw in that way that made Felix unable to stop staring at his face. “No magic, anywhere, ever, has been able to cause someone to become in love, or fall out of love.” he said softly.

            If Felix didn’t know better, if he didn’t know Peter Pan for the hundreds of years that he knew him, he might have, _might_ have thought he saw a flash of vulnerability cross his face.

            “All I could do was merely hope that you would, and then give you the chance.” he said. “I chose you for your unwavering loyalty. And then I let you…mature.” he said. “And hoped.”

            Felix stared at him, mouth agape.

            “And then I gave you the opportunity to choose. Offered you a girl. You could have had her, had that life, if that was what you wanted.”

            Felix’s mind was reeling. Of course. Of course it was all planned, every moment of it; the fact that he’d ever thought otherwise just showed _how_ blinded he was by these new feelings. He _knew_ Pan. He knew he was capable of this sort of manipulation, this sort of cunning.

            “And when I saw you, in that bed, in that house, pleasuring yourself, I thought that was it. I thought you were thinking of her. I was prepared to leave you. In fact, I was about to leave, when you cried out, and it was _my_ name on your lips.”

            Pan’s eyes rose to meet his, and Felix saw him. Not just the outside of him, as he was so used to, but _into_ him. He saw that he _was_ vulnerable; to one thing and exactly one thing, and he was allowing himself to be shown, now, to Felix.

            All Felix wanted to do was declare his undying loyalty until Pan never had to feel vulnerable again.

            “Of course I would choose you.” Felix said. “I have always chosen you.”

            Peter leaned down and pressed his lips to Felix’s. Felix moaned up into is warm breath, the back of his head hitting the tree, pinned between the trunk and Pan. Peter’s mouth opened and closed over his slowly, gliding over every inch, savoring him, tasting him. Felix’s heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to say the words. He was dying to say the words. But something held him back. It wasn’t time. As open as Pan seemed right now, he wasn’t ready to hear it.

            Peter pulled away, cheeks flushed, lips swollen with lust.

            “Any _more_ questions?” he said.

            Felix had about ten thousand questions. He wasn’t sure Pan would entertain them all; so he went for what seemed most pressing.

            “About the flute.” he said. Pan smirked.

            “You mean the one you broke?”

            Felix gave him a cocky grin. Pan rolled his eyes.

            “What about it?”

            “That song you played last night, the one I could hear. Was it a spell?”

            “It’s enchanted, if that’s what you mean.”

            Felix wasn’t sure that was the answer he was looking for. Pan sighed.

            “No, I didn’t seduce you with a magic song. It’s only a lover’s song. It can only be heard by someone….in love…with the player.”

            The blush on Pan’s face spread from his cheeks and up to his ears. Felix knew his face was just as flushed and red.

            These types of words were very unfamiliar to both of them.

            “Okay.” Felix said. His eyes fluttered closed and he tried to remember last night, all the questions he should have asked, needed to ask.

            His fingers flew up to the feathers by his ear.

            “To show you are _mine_.”

            If Felix hadn’t already been sitting, he would have fallen to his ass at those words. He opened his eyes and saw Pan’s blush, and thought he might pass out.

            Pan quirked his eyebrow.

            “What else?” he said, though his voice had a breathiness to it instead of his usual confidence. “Let’s get all of this talking out of the way.”

            Felix took a deep breath and just went for it.

            “So all this…planning, this leaving me behind, this letting me grow up, this playing this lover’s song… _all_ of that…”

            Peter leaned forward again, putting his finger under Felix’s chin, being gentle and yet owning him at the same time.

            “Was to see whether you wanted me.”

            Felix stared up at him and let a smirk play across his lips.

            “Yes.” he said. Pan crushed his lips to him, opening and closing his mouth over and over, needy, wanting, desperate. Felix fell back against the tree and moaned, his head spinning from the idea that _Pan_ was this desperate for _him_. Peter straddled him, sitting on his thighs, and though he didn’t weigh much, Felix knew he’d never be able to push Pan away if he didn’t want him to. His heart pulsed faster, thoughts of being trapped under Pan, owned by Pan, causing _pleasure_ for him were almost too much to bear.

            Pan’s hands slid into Felix’s hood, pulling it down, and Felix felt so exposed he might as well have been naked. Pan’s lips traveled down his neck, following the path they had last night. He tore the scarf off of Felix and tossed it to the ground. He rolled his hips forward and Felix felt his hardness press into his cock. His body shuddered, electricity and heat racing through him. He raised his hands to Pan’s hips and pulled him in, closer, panting as he closed his eyes, feeling Pan’s lips travel down to his collar bone, where his cloak was suddenly very, very in the way. Peter reached up and started to untie it from around his neck…

            A loud crash interrupted them from the north, and seconds later Nibs appeared on the path. He halted in his tracks when he saw them.

            “Pan! I found you! You gotta hurry, N…are you skinning a kill?” he asked. Pan rose to his feet and stalked towards Nibs, eyes dark. Nibs glanced down at what Pan had been on top of, and his mouth fell open at the sight of Felix, cape undone, hood down, with bruises running up and down his neck.

            “Are you guys… _making out_?”           

            Pan waved his hand and Nibs became frozen, unmoving, unblinking, unhearing, unseeing.

            “Felix. Compose yourself.” he commanded without turning around.          

            “Yes, Pan.”

            Felix rose shakily to his feet, trying to will his erection away and not succeeding. He re-tied his scarf, and his cloak, closing it in front so it hid his excitement, and pulled his hood up to cover his face.

            “I’m decent.” he said.

            Pan reached up and placed his palm on Nibs’s forehead. A wave of green spread through his body, erasing what he had just seen.

            “We can’t have this.” Pan said. Felix stood, unmoving, waiting for the rest of his thought.

            “We can’t be doing this during the day where anyone can see.”

            “Understood.” Felix said. If Pan didn’t want the boys to know, then Felix would keep them from knowing.

            Peter’s shoulders stiffened and his head dropped low. He turned and raised his eyes slowly to Felix’s, the deep blush still spread across his cheeks.

            “Why are you so perfect.” he said. Felix’s heart soared. Yesterday, Pan had called him _nearly_ perfect. Today, he _was_ perfect. Everything he had ever tried to achieve was happening to him, all at once.

            He smiled, a slow, crooked, half-upturn of his mouth.

            “I only want to please you.”

            Peter’s eyes dropped from Felix’s face and raked over his body, down his chest, his stomach, lingering between his legs, and then back up slowly to meet his eyes again. Felix suddenly felt like the only reason he was still dressed was because Pan was exercising every bit of restraint he had.

            “And you will.” he said. Shivers raced down Felix’s spine. “And I suppose the older ones will eventually figure it out.” he said. “But we don’t need to be _this_ blatant about it.”

            Pan wanted discretion?

            Felix could hardly wrap his mind around it. He didn’t seem to care last night, when they were making out while the boys danced around the fire, right there.

            It didn’t matter. If Pan wanted discretion today and to be in the open tomorrow, Felix would do either. _He_ didn’t give two shits what the boys thought.

            “I’ll do this as I do everything else.” Felix said. “The way you tell me.”

            A wide, crooked grin spread over Pan’s face and he gave Felix a wink. He turned back to Nibs and unfroze him.

            “Pan! I found you!” he said. “You gotta hurry, Nettles ran into dreamshade, it cut him all over, he’s _dying_!”

            Peter rolled his eyes.

            “Then just have him drink from the enchanted water in the emergency bucket.” he said, annoyed.

            “That’s just it. _The bucket’s empty!_ ”

            Peter lowered his head and rubbed his hand against his forehead, exasperated.

            “Sometimes I feel like I should just let people die. Teach others a lesson about being careful.”

            Nibs’s eyes grew wide and he hopped from foot to foot, terror on his face.

            “You wouldn’t!”

            “He would.” Felix said, stepping up to the two of them. He glared down at Nibs. “He has. Or don’t you remember.”

            Pride swelled in his chest as he got to boast about the person he devoted his life to. Pan didn’t like carelessness. He didn’t usually put up with it.

            “But he’s _new_!” Nibs pleaded. “He didn’t even know what dreamshade looked like, and it’s not _his_ fault the bucket is empty; it wasn’t _his_ job to fill it today!”

            Peter sighed. He turned to Felix.

            “I’m going to take care of this.” he said. “We’ll finish our…” he let his eyes fall to Felix’s crotch again, causing the receding erection to rise right back up. “…conversation later.”

            “Yes, Pan.” Felix said, much more weakly than usual. And then Pan was gone, leaving Felix and Nibs alone.

            “Well, come on. Let’s get back to see what Pan does.” he said, pushing past the boy to saunter down the path- keeping ahead of him so he wouldn’t see the bulge still in his pants.

 

            Camp was a ruckus of panicked voices and scurrying and action, though none of it productive. Felix walked into the scene of chaos and stood, watching, as boys scurried around Nettles, who was lying on the ground curled up in a ball, clutching his right arm close to his chest.

            The emergency bucket, the one that was supposed to be filled every morning with the enchanted water from the top of the island, lay on its side, empty, near his head.

            Pan appeared in the middle of camp, and everything stopped.

            He had, in his hands, a cup, overflowing with water. He knelt down and held Nettle’s head up, pouring the water into his lips. The boy coughed and spat some of it out, and Pan…surprisingly gently, almost nurturing, tipped it again, more slowly, until he swallowed a good mouthful.

            The boy gasped and sat up, the purple color of the veins in his arm receding, leaving only the gashes, with a normal color of blood.

            “There. All better.” Pan said, standing up. He looked down and kicked the empty emergency bucket.

            “So. Who’s turn was it to fill the bucket this morning?”

            Pan slowly turned, his stare falling on each one of the boys as no one dared look at him. He continued turning through the crowd, waiting to see if anyone had the balls to speak up. Felix smirked to himself. Did they all really think he didn’t already know?

            Pan’s eyes landed on Felix.

            “Felix. _You_ never let me down.” he said. “Who’s turn was it to fill the bucket?”

            Felix’s smirk spread across his face as he watched all the other boys cower. They knew he’d tell. They knew he belonged to Pan in a way none of the rest of them did- even if they didn’t grasp the full depth of it.

            “Edges.” he said.

            All eyes turned to Edges, who’s face became white.

            Pan walked towards him, hands behind his back, a glint in his eye. Would he be merciful? Would he unleash his wrath? He loved toying with them like this. Felix loved watching it.

            “Edges.” he said. The boy was no more than seven; though he wasn’t new. He’d been around for at least a hundred years. He looked like he was about to wet himself. “Why didn’t you fill the bucket this morning?”

            “I…I…I forgot, Pan, I’m sorry.”

            “You forgot.”

            Edges nodded.

            “Do you want someone to forget to fill the bucket on a day when _you_ need it?”

            He shook his head no.

            “How do we solve this problem?” Pan asked, gesturing his hands wide, addressing the entire camp. Edges looked down at the ground.

            “However you tell me to.” he said. Pan’s eyebrow quirked up, pleased.

            “Good boy.” he said. He spun slowly as he spoke to everyone, strutting as he did when he gave speeches. “For the next twenty days, Edges will be fetching the water for the bucket.” he said. Everyone looked relieved that that was all. “And, for the next twenty days, _someone_ will get stuck with dreamshade.”

            Fear climbed into every one of their eyes, and Felix smirked. He loved when Pan exerted _so much power_ , without lifting a finger, just from his _words_.

            “Whoever it is better hope Edges has remembered to fill the bucket.” Pan said, and with that, he vanished.

            All eyes in the camp turned angrily towards Edges. Everyone would be making certain that he remembered his duties.

 

            Later that night, which could have been ten years later, the boys danced around the fire as if no one had come close to dying that day. Pan played his flute in dual song again, and Felix lay with his head in his lap, drowning in the bliss that was Pan’s fingers working through his hair, weaving in another feather. He hadn’t thought he’d get to do this again, with Pan’s declaration earlier that they were going to keep this a secret; but when Pan pulled his head down to rest on his thighs, Felix didn’t object.

            “How do you think the day went?” Pan asked him. The smile on Felix’s lips was too blissful to even approach his usual smirk.

            “You made an excellent impression, as always.” he said. The corner of Pan’s mouth upturned, pleased, his fingers sending waves of pleasure through Felix’s skull.

            “And I could count on you, as always.” Pan returned. Felix’s heart shone.

            The rhythm of the dancing broke, as an argument broke out, followed by a scuffle on the other side of the fire.

            “What now.” Pan said, annoyed. He rose, and Felix did his best to sit up, his head swimming, dizzy.

            “Can not!”

            “Can too!”

            “Can _not_!”

            “Can _toooo!”_

It was one of the new boys, arguing with Twigs.

            “What.” Pan said, and everyone shut up. “Is the problem.”

            The new boy, who obviously didn’t know any better, turned to Pan and spoke so quickly it might have been all one word.

            “Twigs says you can conjure up anything you think of, all you have to do is believe. But I’ve been trying to conjure up ice cream _all day_ , and I can’t make any appear! Then I said if _he_ can conjure up ice cream, show me! But then he says he doesn’t know what ice cream _is_! How lame…”

            Pan pulled his hand from his chest outward, rolling his palm up, until an ice cream sundae appeared in it. The new boy’s eyes opened wide in delight.

            “You see, you _can_ conjure anything you can think of.” he said, his smile coated in honey. “Twigs simply can’t think of ice cream, because he’s never had any.”

            The boy’s eyes grew wider. Pan snickered.

            “He’s from a land where ice cream didn’t exist.” he said. “But I think we’ll solve that problem for him right now, what do you think?”

            The younger boy nodded, his eyes alight, his face glowing as he stared at Pan. Felix smiled knowingly from under his hood. He loved watching Pan woo the younger ones. He remembered it happening to himself. Except all of them, for some reason, later on, fell out of his spell to a point. Obedience always remained, but that _belief_ , that trust in Pan, faded over time. Not for Felix. He had never doubted Pan, not once, not ever. And he was being rewarded for that beyond what any of them would ever know.

            Pan turned around, and with a flick of his wrist, the fire was gone, and in its place was a long banquet table.

            “Everybody take a seat.”

            Everyone scrambled to sit in the fancy chairs, fighting and kicking each other as if one chair was somehow better than another. Felix remained where he was, leaning against the tree trunk, watching.

            “Now. Who here knows about ice cream.” he said, placing the sundae he’d imagined on the table with a thud. About two-thirds of the hands went up.

            “Okay. On the count of three, everyone who knows about ice cream, imagine up your favorite flavor. Then everybody take some bites, and if you didn’t know about it before, imagine up some of your own.”

            Most of the boys imagined spoons into their hands, and those who hadn’t at first copied them. Everyone looked excited, their eyes shining.

            Pan looked up from where he stood at the head of the table.

            “Felix. Why aren’t you at the table?”

            Felix rose and obeyed, a chair appearing at the head of the table, right in front of where Pan stood. He sat in it dutifully.

            “Okay. One…two….three!”

            Mountains of ice cream appeared, sundaes, cones, banana splits, dishes, cartons. Every type of ice cream, from every era, from every realm, appeared on the table. The boys dug in happily, squeals of delight from those who had never tasted. The clamor around the table was enough to distract everyone from the fact that the place in front of Felix remained empty.       

            Pan leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Felix’s neck, tilting his head so that his lips brushed his ear. Felix glanced down to where Pan’s arm was pressed against his chest, and saw nothing. Pan was cloaked, invisible. Only Felix knew where he was. The idea sent a tingling sensation up into Felix’s cheeks.

            “Don’t worry.” he said softly, his lips moving over his ear, his breath sliding down his neck, “I already know your favorite flavor.”

            An enormous glass dish of strawberry ice cream materialized in front of Felix, but he hardly noticed as Pan’s lips moved down his neck, pushing back his hood, making him shiver.

            “At least take a _bite_.” Pan said, “Or they’ll all wonder why you’re not having any.”

            “Yes, Pan.” he whispered, and held out his palm. A spoon appeared in it, not from any magic of his own. Heat spread down his neck and went straight to his groin. He had summoned Pan’s magic, and Pan had answered him.

            It took all of the self-control Felix had, which was quite a bit, after all the years he’d spent building it up, to force himself to dip the spoon into the ice cream and take a bite. He swallowed, and Pan’s lips moved to his throat, kissing him where the ice cream went down. Pan hummed into his skin. Felix could feel his smirk.

            He forced himself to take another bite, though he was not the least bit interested in ice cream. Pan’s lips remained on his throat, kissing him, feeling the ice cream go down as he swallowed.

            Then Pan’s tongue emerged. He flattened it against Felix’s throat, dragging it up and under his jaw. Felix dropped his spoon. It clattered to the table. Pan jumped up and swung one leg over Felix’s lap, then softly floated down into it, straddling him, sitting there, breathing into his face.

            “How do you do it.” Felix whispered, even as Pan’s lips kissed under his jaw.

            “Mmmm…do what.”

            Felix struggled to remember language. But he needed to know this.

            “Fffeel…what we feel…” he whispered. “And still have magic. I can’t, I don’t…mine’s gone ever since…”

            Pan’s lips kissed up his neck and back to his ear. He could feel his smile pressed against his skin.

            “Because I’m cheating.” he said. “You can’t be grown-up and be in Neverland; and if you managed, such as the pirates have, you wouldn’t have magic.” he said. His kisses never stopped; his tongue traced over the edge of Felix’s ear and then his lips closed around the lobe, sucking. Felix nearly collapsed under the table.

            “But the rules.” Pan said, kissing along Felix’s cheek. “Don’t apply.” his lips moved closer to Felix’s mouth. “To me.” he pressed his lips hard against Felix’s, and he couldn’t help himself; he kissed him back feverishly. Pan lifted both of his hands and put his palms on the sides of Felix’s face. He pulled back from the kisses and his eyes appeared, hovering in the air in front of Felix’s face, trapping his gaze.

            “And when I’m done with you,” he said, his tone both gentle and threatening at once, “They won’t apply to you, either.”

            Pan leaned down and kissed under Felix’s jaw, pushing his head back. Felix gave up on pretenses and let his head fall back, his eyes closing as he faced the canopy, Pan’s lips sucking on his skin, leaving his marks just under where his scarf covered. Felix groaned and bucked his hips upwards.

            “Just be patient a few more hours.” he whispered into his ear. “Until they’re all asleep.”

            And then Pan vanished. Felix actually whimpered.

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours in Neverland could really be only a few minutes. It could also be a few days. As Felix lay in his hammock, trying to be patient, waiting for all the boys to settle in for the night, “a few hours” might as well have been a few _weeks_.

            It seemed to him that everyone had been perfectly still and asleep for _ever_. He would of course be patient; though Peter had told him Felix had the right to summon him, he would _never_ ; he would wait until Pan came to him, however long that was. The wait was agonizing. His mind kept going over the promises Pan had made to him with kisses.

            “You will please me.”

            “You can summon me.”

            “When I’m done with you, the rules won’t apply to you.”

            Felix weaved his fingers behind his head and swung lazily in his hammock, listening to the night sounds of Neverland; the crickets, the frogs, the bats. The snoring of boys who’d eaten too much ice cream. Pan’s flute.

            _Pan’s flute_.

            The sound was low, eerie. It drifted to him gently, softly, as if it was coming from very, very far away. It echoed through the forest and swirled around Felix’s ears, making them glow and his heart pound faster. He rose from his hammock and walked through camp, forgetting to bring his club.

            _A lover’s song_. No one else stirred. No one else could hear it but Felix. Heart racing, brain barely functioning, Felix stepped into the forest, in the dark, without a weapon, without a light. He feared nothing. If Pan wanted him somewhere, he would get there; and if Pan wanted him dead, he would die. He only ever desired to do Pan’s bidding…and got very, very lucky about where Pan’s bidding had so far led him.

            Tonight, the song led him to a clearing in the forest. The moon shone down through a hole in the canopy. Felix spied Pan leaning against the trunk of a tree, one foot pressed up against it, his eyes half-closed as he played his flute. Felix didn’t remember walking across the clearing. He stopped just in front of Pan and stood, waiting.

            Peter’s mouth upturned in a cocky grin. He made the flute vanish and reached up a hand to brush his fingers across Felix’s cheek, pushing his hood down, leaving his head exposed to the cool night air. His other hand snaked behind his neck and pulled him down, until Peter’s lips were at his ear.

            “Now you get to please me.” he whispered. Felix shuddered with excitement. His ear flushed where Pan’s breath washed over it. Blood rushed to his face where Pan touched him.

            “Hmmm.” Pan said, sliding both of his hands over Felix’s shoulders, drawing his fingers to the string across Felix’s throat that held up his cloak. He pulled, and Felix’s cloak fell to the ground with a heavy thump. His scarf followed it. He shivered in the cool night air. He could not remember the last time he’d been without his cloak.

            Peter wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him close, until their chests pressed together, until their hips touched. Peter tilted his head to the side, the pale skin of his neck glowing white in the moonlight. He lifted one eyebrow, waiting, and Felix understood.

            His heart throbbing, he leaned down and planted a kiss on Pan’s neck.

            “Good boy.” Pan said, and Felix’s ears grew hotter. He really, really liked those words. He kissed Pan’s neck again, and again, opening his lips wide and closing them lazily, leaving a trail of wetness where he went, exactly as Pan had done to him. Exactly as he had been taught. He dragged his lips downward from Peter’s jaw to the crook where it met his shoulder, pushed his lips in, and sucked. Pan gasped and wrapped his arms tighter around Felix, pulling him nearer.

            Felix’s head was whirling. The sounds coming from Pan were ten times more intoxicating than the flute’s song had been. Forgetting himself, Felix pressed his body in, wanting to be closer, _needing_ to be closer.

            Pan rocked his hips forward and Felix felt his hardness push up into his dick. His blood lit on fire; searing want flooded through him. He instinctually ground back, and Pan _moaned_.

            “Now you’re getting it.” Pan said, his voice soft but commanding as ever. Felix sucked harder, the flesh of Pan’s neck molding into his mouth. He kissed down his shoulder until the sleeve of his tunic got in his way, and then kissed down the v-shaped collar along the skin of Pan’s chest.

            “Why don’t you get rid of that.” Pan said. Felix was almost blinded by the pounding of his pulse. This couldn’t be. No one could touch Pan.

            Felix was being told to touch Pan.

            He slid his hands down his sides, feeling the green fabric in his palms. It was smooth, fine; nothing like the coarse linens or animal furs he was used to wearing. It was tucked tightly into Pan’s belt, and Felix’s hands trembled as he pulled up, the cloth sliding out in his palms. He felt Pan’s hand on the back of his neck and looked up to meet his gaze.

            His eyes burned into him, matching the want Felix felt. Their foreheads pressed together, their lips inches apart as they both panted, inhaling each other’s air. Felix haltingly continued his task, hands shaking as he unbuckled the belt that kept Pan’s tunic closed. The belt fell to the ground with a heavy thud, leaving the tunic open in the front. Pan smirked at him, raising one eyebrow, encouraging him. Daring him. He slid his fingers inside Peter’s tunic until he touched bare skin.

            Peter’s eyes fluttered closed. Felix grazed his fingers over Peter’s stomach, along his sides, up his back. His bare skin was so warm, so… _soft_. He didn’t have a scar on him. Of course he wouldn’t. He could heal himself instantly from any injury.

            Trembling, Felix slid his hands up Peter’s sides to his shoulders. The cloth fell away and dropped on the ground somewhere, leaving Pan wearing nothing but trousers, boots, and his leather wristbands. Felix could not take his eyes away.

            He was perfect. His skin was perfect; not a blemish was on it, not a scar, not a birthmark. His stomach had well-defined muscles and Felix’s eyes dragged up them, taking the sight in, his gaze lingering on the perfect navel fluttering in and out with Pan’s quick breaths. He had thin wisps of hair on his chest, lighter than the hair on his head, and two perfect nipples that were perked in the chilly air.

            Felix’s hands grabbed at those sides, pulling Pan closer, whose arms wrapped around his neck again. He went back to where he’d been kissing him, at the bottom of his throat, where his clavicle bones met. Peter hummed and leaned against the tree. Felix kissed lower, his lips wandering near Pan’s nipple, wanting, wondering.

            He kissed it, and Peter moaned as he bit his own lip.

            “Mmmmm, Fee.” he said, his voice shaky. Felix’s blood raced through his body and down to his groin. Fuck, Peter’s voice sounded so sweet, so affectionate. _Fee_. It was so…intimate. He kissed Peter’s nipple again, slowly, wetly, dragging his lips and tongue over it. Peter started to quiver under him. Felix could hardly believe the reactions he was causing. This entire situation was unreal.

            As Felix licked and sucked at Peter’s nipple, his hands roamed his stomach, stroking his abdomen, tickling up his sides. The little gasps and moans coming from Peter were all Felix ever needed to live on. His hand wandered low, his knuckles scraping against the top of Pan’s trousers, and Pan’s hands were on his shoulders instantly, pushing him down.

            It was not a suggestion. The strength with which Pan’s hands pushed would have been impossible to fight, had Felix wanted to. He lowered himself to his knees and stared at the bulge in Pan’s trousers, his hands trembling as they traced along the waistline. He slipped his thumbs in at Peter’s hips and pulled down, his vision greeted with the sight of Peter’s glistening, hardened cock, standing fully upright, the head swollen and purple. The want was so intense Felix thought for a moment he might pass out.

            Pan gave him a wide grin, cocky even under half-lidded eyes.

            “Better than you expected?”

            Felix stared, overcome by nerves. He wanted, _so badly,_ to please Pan; and here he was being given the chance. He couldn’t mess this up. Doing this wrong would be the greatest mistake of his life. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. He closed his eyes softly and tried to steady himself with a deep breath.

            He felt a palm on his cheek. Fingers slid under his chin and lifted it. He opened his eyes and looked up into the face that his entire being revolved around, and saw that it was already pleased. The corner of Pan’s mouth turned upwards and Felix melted.

            “I know you want this.” he cooed. “So what’s holding you back?”

            Felix was not one to voice his fears aloud. He kept them to himself; the last thing he wanted to do was burden Pan with his insecurities. He didn’t need that kind of nonsense. He had enough to deal with. But here he was, asking.

            “I want to get this perfect.” he said. He had the reward of watching Pan’s smirk turn into a full blown smile. “Fuck, Fee.” he said, his voice winded, gentle. Felix had never heard such tones come from Pan. “I’ve already chosen _you_.” he said. “You really can’t mess this up.”

            Felix’s heart soared. Having no reason to hold back any longer, he eagerly leaned forward, tilting his head to kiss the side of Pan’s cock. Peter inhaled sharply, his fingers tightly clasping Felix’s shoulders. He kissed the warm flesh the way he’d kissed his nipple and his neck; mouth open, tongue leaving lines of drool as he went. His heart pounded so that he couldn’t hear, his own dick straining against his pants. His hands clasped Peter’s hips if only to hold himself up. He kissed down his shaft languidly, savoring it, hardly believing that he was permitted to do this; that this was _real_.

            His lips reached the base, thick and swollen. Mind overcome with lust, Felix flattened his tongue against Peter’s dick and slowly dragged it up, smirking as he felt Pan’s fingers dig into his shoulders. When he reached the tip he kissed it heavily, wetly, making Peter shudder. He slid his tongue inside his foreskin and sucked the tip into his mouth.

            “Yes, Fee. Just like that.” Peter whispered, the back of his head smacking the tree. He slid his hands up to tangle them in Felix’s hair. Felix’s entire body was drowning in pleasure. His brain was shut off.

            He brought a hand up to pull Peter’s foreskin down, exposing the sensitive tip underneath. Felix raised up on his knees and for once was glad for his height. He bent his neck and opened his mouth, sucking Peter’s dick as far as he could into his mouth.

            “Fuuuuck, yes.” Peter moaned, his breaths coming faster, his perfect stomach moving in and out right in front of Felix’s eyes. Felix sucked again, moving his head up and then down, going a little further each time, flicking his tongue around the head. He felt precum in his mouth; it tasted salty and bitter but lit his body on fire. It drove him down faster, harder, moving his head deeper and quicker. He sucked until his cheeks hollowed, and Pan moaned through gritted teeth, his fingers pulling his hair so tight it hurt, and Felix was in heaven.

            Peter groaned and bucked his hips forward. Felix lost his balance and his hands found the tree trunk, using it to hold himself up. Peter closed his fingers into fists in his hair, holding his head immobile. He shoved his hips down, far, plunging his cock deep into Felix’s mouth, far into the back of his throat.

            His body wanted to react; it wanted to remove the foreign object from its throat, but Felix wanted to satisfy Pan more. He’d spent four lifetimes ignoring his instincts to please Pan, and it was easy to make his body obey him now. He took Pan deep into his throat, cutting off his air and not caring whatsoever. Pan slid back out, gave Felix time to gasp, and pushed himself back in.

            The grip on Felix’s hair was inhumanly strong. Felix savored it; Pan wanted him here and so he would be _here_. Peter slid his dick in and out of Felix’s mouth faster and deeper, until he was thrusting, fucking Felix’s mouth and Felix hummed when he had air. He could barely keep his eyes open, he could barely remember to inhale. His jaw ached, his neck hurt, his lungs burned. Peter’s dick slammed harder and faster into his mouth, his tongue welcoming him, sliding over him, his throat opening for him as far as he could make it.

            Peter groaned and thrusted, his breath washing down the back of Felix’s neck. Drops of sweat fell onto Felix’s face as Peter fucked his mouth.

            “Fuck, Fee, you’re so damn perfect.” Peter whispered, and if Felix could have smiled, he would have. He loved hearing Peter call him that. He would die just to hear him say his name that way once more.

            “Hhnnngggg!!!!” Peter screamed, his dick swelling until it was rock-hard, pounding into Felix’s mouth. A flood of cum squirted into him, salty and bitter and delicious, Pan’s pleasure being given to him, in his mouth, down his throat. He swallowed at it greedily, licking, sucking, precious drops of it dripping out from the corners of his mouth as Pan fucked him with force.

            He slowed down, his dick softening. Felix continued to suck on it, gently, cleaning it, getting every bit of cum off. He sucked until the hands pulled his head away by his hair, and Peter collapsed to his knees in front of him.

            He leaned forward and lazily kissed Felix, licking the cum from his lips and forcing it back into his mouth. He eagerly swallowed it, his entire body radiating with heat. Pan leaned forward, pushing Felix down onto his back. His king, his master, his lover lay on top of him, panting, exhausted, _pleased_. Felix wrapped his arms around Pan and held him close, feeling his heart beat against his chest. There could be nothing better than this.

            Pan’s face was pressed into his neck, and he felt his cocky smile spread across his lips. He started to kiss Felix’s neck, dragging his lips up until he reached his ear.

            “Your turn.” he growled. Felix lost his usual composure. He whimpered.

            Pan sat up, straddling him, pressing his weight down on Felix’s desperate hardness. Somehow, Peter’s trousers were pulled back up. That wasn’t fair.

            “Mmmm, just dying to know what I’ll do to you, aren’t you?” he said. Felix barely had the composure to nod, his eyes locked onto the bare, perfect chest that hovered above him in the moonlight.

            Peter’s fingers moved to one of the ties that held the skins and furs on Felix’s chest. The knots were crusted shut from decades of never being opened; yet when Pan pulled, they came undone easily. His magic was so powerful it was invisible; yet Felix still knew it, better than he knew anything. Peter moved to another tie, and another, the cloths and skins falling away, until Felix felt the cool night air drift across his bare skin, leaving his chest exposed. He already felt completely naked.

            Peter’s eyes wandered down his chest, Felix’s cheeks burning hotter from his gaze. He slid his deft fingers down from his neck, over his chest, across his stomach. Whenever he reached a scar- and there were many- he paused to trace it with his fingers, a smirk of approval coming to his lips.

            “I remember when you got every one of these.” he said. Felix could barely hear him. Pan wasn’t even _there_ when he’d gotten most of- he cut off his own stupid thought. Of course Pan was there. Pan was _always_ there.

            Peter’s fingers skimmed up his sides, making Felix tremor and inhale sharply. His fingers drifted up his neck and to his face, traveling along the scar that marred his right cheek and stretched across the bridge of his nose.

            “Of course, I remember this one the best.” he said, his eyes burning with delight as he stared down at Felix.

            In flashes, Felix remembered getting the scar he wore so proudly on his face. Pan had a sword. No one else dared challenge him. Felix did, unafraid. If Pan wanted to kill him, he would. If he wanted him to live, he would. Choosing to participate in a sword game didn’t alter that. It had lasted a while. A good fifteen minutes, before Pan declared he won by slicing Felix across the face.

            “Surrender.” Pan had said, the tip of the blade pressing against Felix’s throat. 

       “Always.” he’d said, instantly falling to his knees. Even through the blood dripping into his eyes, he saw the look on Pan’s face. A look he would never, ever forget, and would spend the rest of his life trying to see again. Pan was _pleased_.

            Back in the forest, in the night, lying on his back, Felix was privy to see that look again- several times over, now. It was on Pan’s face at this very moment, as his fingertips felt the scar on Felix’s face.

            “That day.” Pan stated. “That was when.”

            Lost in pleasure, Felix’s brain couldn’t even come up with something to say to ask Pan to explain. He needn’t have worried.

            Pan leaned down, his lips half an inch from Felix’s, his eyes piercing into him.

            “That was the day I decided I wanted _you_.” he whispered. “That was the day I decided to let you grow up and see if you would choose me.”

            If Felix’s heart beat any harder it would explode. The burning spread through his veins and became even more intense. He wished he had words to describe this feeling.

            “I had already chosen you.” he managed.

            Pan kissed him, rough, deep, hard. Felix moaned and arched his back, pushing up into the kiss, their lips frantic, wild. Passion burned through Felix, his arms sliding around Pan’s naked back, pulling him down, closer, closer. He bucked his hips up, grinding into him, and wasn’t surprised to feel Pan’s dick hard again- if anyone could do that so quickly again, it would be him.

            Pan pulled back and gave Felix one of his irresistible smirks. He tisked his tongue.

            “Now now.” he said. “Not what I had in mind.”

            Felix whimpered, helplessly surrendered to the being above him.

            Pan lowered his lips and kissed down Felix’s throat, meandering lower, to his chest. Unlike Pan’s chest, his was _covered_ in hair- hair and scars, marred, imperfect. Pan seemed to enjoy it, running his tongue over this scar and that, causing Felix to twitch from the ticklish sensations. He moved his thumbs to Felix’s nipples and stroked them, even as his tongue continued pleasantly torturing his abdomen, then his stomach. Felix lay, a puddle of boneless, helpless flesh, unable to do anything but feel what Pan was doing to him.

            When Pan reached the top of his pants, Felix inhaled sharply. Raising his eyes, Pan stared at Felix with the most mischievous look he’d ever seen on his face. Without removing his fingers from stroking Felix’s nipples, the button on Felix’s pants came undone. Without anything apparently touching them, his pants slid down to his knees, easily, his weight not slowing the motion down whatsoever.           

            Embarrassed beyond words, he stared up at the sky, his entire face flushed crimson. He was no boy. There was a reason he’d kept himself covered in so much cloth for the last hundred years or so. Protruding from a mess of blond curls, his dick was twice the size of Peter’s, hard and glistening in the moonlight, soaking wet from oozing precum for the past twenty minutes.

            “A fine specimen.” Pan said, pride in his voice, as if he’d seen a hundred cocks, and as if he’d made this one himself.

            Felix felt lips press against the side of his dick, near the tip. He inhaled sharply and his eyes flew down to see Pan’s gorgeous face, pleased, enjoying itself as he pressed his lips to Felix’s dick. Felix’s breath somehow forced itself in and out of his lungs even faster.

            Pan dragged his bottom lip up the side of Felix’s cock and easily, fluidly slid his lips over the tip and sucked. Felix cried out, his hands flying to Pan’s hair, grasping it with his full strength. Pan pulled his lips away, letting them brush against the sensitive tip when he spoke.

            “Thought you’d like that.” he said, the smirk in his voice audible. His lips opened again, sliding Felix’s dick into the heat of his mouth, his tongue wrapping around the tip, flicking at it as his lips sucked, drawing Felix deeper and deeper into him. Peter slowly slid back up, sucking impossibly hard, until his lips rested on Felix’s tip and their eyes met. He smiled, his eyes playful and dark, as he slid his lips down again, taking Felix even deeper into his throat.

            Felix could do nothing but lay helplessly and clutch at Pan’s hair as he gradually moved his head, going slightly lower, slightly deeper each time. His tongue pressed hard against Felix’s tip and then would flick, sending sparks of intense pleasure straight to Felix’s balls. Each time Felix whimpered helplessly, Peter hummed, the pleasure in his voice dripping honey.

            Peter drew up again, pausing to kiss and lick the tip, driving Felix wild. His body shook, tears leaked from his eyes and nonsensical babblings were coming from his mouth. As he came undone, Pan only looked more and more pleased. Then he opened his mouth wide and swallowed Felix down completely, the heat and wetness of his mouth and _throat_ surrounding him. Felix cried out again.

            “Peter!” he said. With expert fluidity, Pan began to bob his head up and down, going faster and faster, sucking Felix _all_ the way down and then pulling nearly off of him each time. Each time he sank, Felix moaned, until instinct won out over his self-control and he bucked up into the wet heat of Pan’s mouth, wanting, needing more.

            “Mmmmm.” Pan approved, and Felix’s heart raced as he bucked up over and over, fucking Pan’s mouth. Pan moved in perfect rhythm with him, matching his pace, his tongue teasing him, his lips encouraging him to go as deep as he liked. He felt Pan’s breath wash over his pelvis and balls each time his nose came all the way down, the impossible fact that Pan was breathing with Felix rammed down his throat completely escaping his lust-drowned brain. Felix lost his mind, bucking up into that heat harder and faster, his fingers clutching Pan’s hair, thrusting into his mouth with desperate need.

            He felt the heat and pressure build and build until it spiked, and exactly then Pan sucked, drawing the pleasure out of him. Felix screamed, his voice echoing through the trees, frightening the crickets and frogs nearby into silence. He released into Pan’s mouth, who did not let a single drop escape; Felix’s pleasure flowed out of him in waves of heat and lust, and Pan was drinking every drop of it.

            Pan pulled off of him with a final pop, an insidious smirk spread across his lips. He lay on top of Felix, pressing their naked chests together, twirling his fingers in a circle on his shoulder.

            “You are so much damn fun, Fee.” he said. Felix wasn’t yet able to form words. In fact, he was exhausted; he didn’t know how long they’d been… out here, but he suddenly felt like it had been hours. He tried to fight the sleepiness that was coming over him. All he could manage was to wrap his arms around Pan and hold him close, and then unconsciousness took him, not giving his mind one moment to try to sort out what had happened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was 100% porn, here, have some plot.

He woke up to in the middle of the night. The last thing he remembered, he was in the middle of the forest, with Pan, half-naked…

            He was still definitely half-naked. But he was _not_ on the forest floor. No. He was lying on a pile of animal furs. Which were on a pile of straw. Which were on a wooden floor.

            He sat up and opened his eyes fully, examining his surroundings in the pre-dawn light. He was in a treehouse; but not one he recognized. It wasn’t shoddily or haphazardly built by the inexperienced hands of excited young boys; nor was it like the older one’s treehouses, made with more experience but less excitement. It seemed to somehow be both. The wooden planks along the walls and floors were aligned perfectly; there was even a window, where he could see the horizon turning pink, uninhibited by leaves or branches.

            Where _was_ he?

            There was a wooden table, low to the floor to avoid the need for chairs. Nothing was on it. There was a shelf, also with nothing on it. Not a single tool, not a scrap of food, not a toy, _nothing_.

            Who in hell would build a treehouse, and then in it, keep nothing?

            Felix slowly awakened and became aware that someone was sleeping beside him. His heart began to quicken even as he turned his head, even as he already knew who he would find. He saw the perfectly unmarred back, the locks of light brown hair mopped over the back of his head, and his heart trembled.

            _He was in Pan’s treehouse._

            In his _bed_.

            _No one_ had _ever_ seen where Pan slept. _No one_. In fact there was a pretty strong rumor that he didn’t sleep; and at times Felix believed it himself. Felix stared, unmoving, in awe at what he was privy to see. Pan, sleeping. He was definitely sleeping. Vulnerable. Shirtless.

            Felix’s head swam as recollections of the night before came back to him. This couldn’t possibly be his life.

            He lay there, silently, unmoving, for a long time. Pan slept, perfectly still, his face pressed into the animal furs, his back to Felix, one arm flung atop his head, the other buried underneath him.

            Felix never wanted to move. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get this privilege again, to see Pan like this, almost like a normal boy- almost innocent. Or maybe he would. Pan had certainly enjoyed himself last night. He wasn’t the type to find something he liked and then have it only once. Felix smiled to himself. Definitely not.

            He must have drifted off again, because the next thing he knew, he was being awakened by the strong urge to take a piss.

            Softly, as if it was _possible_ not to wake Pan, he rose from the straw bed. Groggily, he walked silently across the floor- not a board creaked, such was the excellent workmanship of Pan’s imagination- and reached the doorway. Eyes half-closed, he stepped one foot down towards the first rung of the ladder…only to find no ladder.

            He fell, like a first-week recruit, years of training and reflexes lost to him in the fog that was his brain. His voice didn’t even work, though his reflexes did their best to right himself, to prepare for the landing, to land on his feet. Except, he _kept_ falling. He crashed through the canopy of the forest, leaves and twigs scraping his bare arms and back as he plummeted from an _impossible_ height, his heart skipping beats, his mind chastising him for being _so_ stupid. At least he was going to die on the best day of his life.

            Inches before the ground, his body stopped. Surrounded by the green glow of pixie dust, he started to rise, faster and faster, until he was rising as fast as he’d been falling. The twigs and branches scraped him again on his way back up. He appeared back above the canopy, and this time, he saw it.

            It was the Thinking Tree, rising thick and tall and proud, far _far_ above the other trees; higher than Felix ever realized it grew, and sitting atop it a most perfectly built, ladderless, ropeless, treehouse.

            He was flung towards the doorway of it and then placed down gently on his feet. Panting, he leaned against the wall.

            Pan rolled over lazily in his bed and opened one eye.

            “Normally you’re not one to need rescuing, Felix.” he said, a mocking grin on his face.

            Felix’s knees were still rattling. Without his clothes to hide it, he felt totally exposed, even with pants on.

            “There was no ladder.” He knew it was lame the second he said it.

            Pan snorted and sat up, the blanket falling away to reveal his naked chest. Felix couldn’t stop staring.

            “What need does a boy who can fly have for a ladder?”

            Felix rolled his eyes. Of all people, Pan didn’t need to brag to _him_.

            “Where exactly were you going, anyway?” Pan said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

            “I had to take a leak.”

            Pan sighed. “Just go out the door.” he said. “And then come back to bed.”

            The second part of that sentence was everything Felix wanted to hear. He quickly did his business…not looking down… and came back to Pan’s bed. His heart and skin and face were glowing as he lowered himself down onto the straw covered in furs, and Pan lay down beside him, facing him.

            “You’ve gone and scratched up your pretty skin.” he said. He reached out his hand and brushed his palm over Felix’s bicep, healing it. He slid his palm over his shoulder, his back, his sides, his stomach. Pan brushed his palm over every inch of Felix’s exposed skin, healing the little cuts he’d gotten from falling through the trees. Felix’s entire body burned and glowed as he felt Pan’s magic flow through him. Face flushed, he turned up to watch Pan as he worked.

            “There. All better.” Pan said, curling his finger under Felix’s chin. He leaned down and kissed him, pressing his head into the furs, crushing their lips together. Pan kissed him hungrily, over and over, Felix softly groaning into his mouth. His breath quickened and his dick grew hard again; he was helpless to Pan’s touch and would happily leap out of a hundred treehouses, if this is what it would get him.

            Pan pulled back slowly, licking Felix’s drool off of his flushed lips. He propped his head up on his palm and smirked.

            “So.” he said. “Ask.”

            Felix had about ten million questions. He wasn’t sure which ones he was permitted to ask; and even if he was, how could he _choose_?

            So, naturally, he chose the one question he probably _never_ should have asked.

            “You’ve done this before.”

            Pan snorted.

            “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

            Too late to take it back now, Felix took a deep breath and went for it.

            “What you did to me. Last night. It was not your first time…doing…that.”

            Pan’s eyes darted downward and he picked at a loose bit of fur on the blanket.

            Then his gaze rose to meet Felix’s, his stare harsh, cold. He grabbed Felix’s chin with only his thumb and index finger, yet his grip was impossibly strong.

            “ _None_ have meant what you do.” he said. Felix felt the anger, felt the rage boiling inside him- and yet knew it was not _at_ him.

            Only a fool with a death wish would press Pan on this matter. Felix most definitely was a fool.

            “How many have there been?”

            Pan flew into a sitting position, and then suddenly, he was fully dressed. So was Felix. Pan flicked his fingers at the horizon and the sun rose at his command, its orange light shining in through the window, banishing the romantic atmosphere of the early morning. Felix sat up, his heart pounding now with fear. If Pan killed him now, he surely deserved it. He’d earned it, with his stupid questions.

            Then they were sitting at the table. Felix would never get used to what it was like to be somewhere and then suddenly be somewhere else, no matter how many times Pan did it to him.

            And Pan was pouring tea, and there was toast. With jam.

            “Eat. Breakfast.” he said through clenched teeth. His eyes were as cold and solid as steel. Felix did as he was told.

            Pan rose to his feet.

            “I will be back.” he snarled. “I have to go poison someone with dreamshade. Wouldn’t want to break my deal with Edges.”

            And then he was gone.

 

            Felix ate, as he was commanded, his brain a whirlwind of thoughts.

            _None have meant what you do_.

            It was enough for him. It was _plenty_ enough. Why had he pressed the matter further? Was he _trying_ to make Pan upset? That was the opposite of all of his life goals.

            He finished the toast, and the tea, and had poured a second cup, which was starting to get cold, when he heard footsteps behind him.

            Pan turned and sat across the table from him.

            “Who did you choose.” Felix said, glad to hear that his voice, at least, had its usual monotone confidence back. It was probably due to being dressed.

            “Slightly.” he said.

            Felix smirked.

            “Slightly’s immune.”

            Pan leaned back against the air and crossed his arms behind his head.

            “ _You_ know that, and _I_ know that; but Edges doesn’t, and for today, Slightly doesn’t, either.”

            Felix smirked. He loved when Pan fucked with people.

            “Speaking of secrets.” Pan said, sitting up straight. The tea and jam were suddenly gone. “Do you know how I became Lost.”

            Felix felt ridiculous shaking his head no. Of course he didn’t . No one knew.

            Pan leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Felix’s.

            “Well, you are now going to know. You are going to share this burden with me.”

            “Understood.” Felix said. Even as fear trickled through him, his heart lit on fire. If Pan wanted him to share the burden of this secret, no matter how heavy or painful it was, he would gladly bear it for him.

            Pan sat back at a normal distance.

            “When I was a boy,” he began, and already Felix’s brain was whirling. What kind of statement was that? Pan was still a boy!

            “…my father sold me to a blacksmith.” he said it with a disdainful sneer.

            Felix dared not interrupt with so much as a sigh, though vile disgust churned within him. Pan, a _slave_? It was beyond unthinkable.

            “I was five or six at the time?” Pan shrugged. “The point is, my life was now spent all day in front of hot coals, in the sweat and the grime. Hot. Dusty. Dry. I spent my days so close to the furnace I might as well have been in it. But every night I would say to myself, ‘think lovely thoughts’. And in my sleep, I would travel to the most wonderful place. Neverland.”

            Felix let a small smile come to his face then. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been frowning. He didn’t like hearing about Pan suffering. He closed his eyes and bore it. Pan had to know this. So he would know it.

            “Oh it gets _so_ much worse, Felix. Don’t get upset yet.”

            Felix grit his teeth.

            Pan rose to his feet and began to pace as he spoke.

            “When I got older…thirteen?” he shrugged. “My _master_ ,” he spat the word, and Felix’s heart twisted itself in ugly knots. _Pan_ should never have called _anyone_ “master!”

            “…realized that he could make a much better profit with me in a different kind of business.”

            Felix clutched his knees and remained perfectly, utterly still.

            “Let’s just say there were a few hundred customers. Mostly men. I got very good at what I did, so I would be useful, so he wouldn’t kill me. I hated life, but I wanted to be alive. So I did what I was told.”

            Felix didn’t realize he had a hateful, angry sneer on his face, until Pan turned and saw it. He tried to keep his face calm. He couldn’t.

            “I stopped getting to Neverland in my dreams then. Wasn’t a boy anymore. Couldn’t get here.”

            Even though he _knew_ that was not how the story ended, Felix’s heart ached to hear those words. It wasn’t right. None of this was right.

            “One time, one of the customers was a woman. I did my job. I think she was being paid too. Whatever. People watched, got off, went home.”

            Felix’s nails were digging so hard into his pants his skin was screaming at him.

            “Nine months later, she drops a writhing, pink, crying _worm_ at my master’s door. My son.”

            Ice spread out from Felix’s heart and crept through his entire body. It was a nightmare worse than he’d ever imagined. Worse than his own childhood had been. It made his father keeping him all to himself seem like paradise in comparison. It was worse than any story he’d ever heard. And he’d heard many.

            Pan whirled and spoke with a sneer on his face, his teeth gritting hard against each other.

            “I tried to do the right thing. I tried to raise it. I hated it, every moment it cried, coughed, spit up, pissed, shit. I fed it. Taught it to walk. Taught it to talk. This little rumply bag of skin.” he said with disgust. “I called it that a lot. Eventually, he thought that was his name, Rumple-still-skin.” Pan’s teeth showed as he sneered. Felix couldn’t possibly imagine going through that. “I got old. My master let me go. We lived on the street. I swindled for money. I was a man, Felix. For ten years or so.”

            Felix hadn’t realized the tears in his eyes until he blinked and they fell.

            “I wasn’t very _good_ at it. I was shitty at it, actually. Never quite got the hang of being an adult.”

            There was no way this story could have a happy ending.

            “And then, my son, he found a magic bean.”

            Felix’s heart felt hopeful again. He knew how this would end, he knew…

            “Of course we came here.” he said. “But I couldn’t fly. I couldn’t imagine anything. I was powerless. I was grown up.”

            Felix wanted to vomit.

            “And _that’s_ when I made the deal with the Shadow.”

            Felix froze.

            He had always known that Pan had some bargain with the Shadow. While some misguidedly believed that it was _Pan’s_ shadow, Felix knew better. It listened to him, and yet seemed to mock him at the same time. Felix did his best to avoid the thing as much as he could.

            Pan sat down, cross-legged, so close to Felix that their knees were touching. He reached out his hand and gripped Felix’s chin, lifting his face to stare into Pan’s eyes. They were wild and deep, anger floating on the surface with a core of dark pain deep down.

            “He gave me back my youth.” he said. “Gave me back my childhood; the one I’d never had in the first place. All I had to do was pay a price that for others, might have been hard, but for me, it was easy.” he said. Felix’s remained completely motionless, listening.

            “I had to disown my son. Give him up. Make him Lost.”

            Felix said nothing.

            “The Shadow took him away. He was gone. I _thought_ I was rid of him, but that brat had to go and make himself immortal- but that’s another story. Anyway, that was the price I paid. But the Shadow had more fun in store for me.”

            Peter let go of Felix’s jaw. He felt the blood rush back into his skin where it had been squeezed so tightly.

            “People say _I’m_ evil.” Pan said. “The Shadow makes me look like a saint.”

            Felix worked his jaw, his mouth, swallowed so that his voice would be steady when he spoke.

            “What did it do.”

            “ _Cursed_ me.” Pan said, flying to his feet. “The deal I made was _to have its power_ , to be ruler over all Neverland, master of all magic, _forever_.”

            Felix didn’t understand.

            “But…you are.”

            Pan’s fingers clenched into tight fists, his arms shaking with rage.

            “I _would_ be, but for the _curse!_ ”

            Suddenly, they were somewhere else. It took Felix a moment to get his bearings. He heard the waves of the ocean crashing outside. Felt the dampness. His eyes had to adjust to the sudden darkness around him. They were in a cave.

            “ _That_.” Pan spat, and Felix turned. He saw an enormous hourglass, filled with a golden, shining substance that trickled through it slowly. It was three-quarters of the way finished.

            “That.” Pan started again. “Marks my time until my power, _MY_ power, returns to the Shadow, and I die.”

            There were not words. Nothing could describe what Felix felt other than an enormous, infinitely loud, screaming _no_.

            “You _are_ king.” Felix said. “All curses can be broken. We will find a way.”

            Pan spun around, all raw emotion, his eyes flashing.

            “I have found several ways, several times.” Pan said. “Even one most recently.” he walked up to Felix and put his palms on the sides of Felix’s face. “And always, the price is too high.”

            Felix didn’t understand. What could _possibly_ be more important than Pan breaking the curse of death, and becoming the immortal powerful being he was supposed to be?

            “ _All_ of the ways I have found.” Pan said, “Mean that _you_ , the one I love most, must die.”

            Felix fell to his knees and bowed his head.

            “Then I will gladly die.”

            He was yanked to his feet by Pan’s invisible magic.

            “You will _not._ ” he spat. His magic pulled Felix to him and he kissed him, forcefully, angrily, his teeth clasping Felix’s bottom lip, owning him, possessing him.

            _The one I love most_.

            _The one I love_.

            A great roar sounded from nowhere, to nowhere. The ground rumbled and chunks of rock fell from the cave ceiling. Though neither of them noticed, the sand in the hourglass begun to fall more slowly. The waters of the ocean encroached upon the shores of Skull Rock as it sank, just a hair.

            Then Felix passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

He woke up in his hammock, ten faces of Lost Boys staring down at him.

            “Is he dead?”

            “Is he cursed?”

            “Is he poisoned?”

            He felt a small finger poke his cheek.

            He turned to bite it and all the faces jumped back about two feet.

            “He’s _fine_.” he said, and sat up. They all went scurrying.

            His head was pounding. He rubbed it, but the pain didn’t lessen. He swung his legs over the side and stood, wavered, then sat down again. Maybe walking was a bad plan.

            “Where you been.”

            The voice was a familiar one. Felix looked up to see Slightly, sharpening a sword with a rock, leaning against a tree.

            “You’ve been gone for two days. I’d have worried, if you were someone else.”

            Felix squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight the pounding in his head. If he hadn’t had such a massive headache, he probably would have thought through his next words more carefully. As in, not have said them.

            “Pan’s treehouse.”

            A mocking smile spread across Slightly’s face as he rolled his eyes.

            “Pan’s treehouse.” he repeated. “Yeah, right.”

            “Oh, he’s right.”

            Felix’s heart leapt as he heard that voice behind him. He felt Pan’s arm snake around his neck and he leaned back, his head falling pleasantly against Pan’s stomach as he stood behind his hammock.

            Slightly stared, eyes wide, mouth agape.

            “How are you feeling.” Pan asked, ignoring Slightly completely.

            “My head is killing me. What happened?”

            Pan didn’t answer, but instead leaned down, pulling Felix’s head back and kissed him. Felix became butter, his arms falling to his sides, his legs becoming useless. He heard Slightly’s sword clang as he dropped it to the ground in shock.

            Pan’s head flew up and he stared at him.

            “I trust you’ll keep this to yourself.”

            Slightly stammered.

            “I…uh…”

            Pan waved his hand, and the boy’s face went blank.

            “Go play on the beach.” he said, and Slightly walked off, silent, his memory being erased even as he walked.

            Pan leaned down and stroked Felix’s hair.

            “How are you feeling.” he repeated.

            “My head.” Felix said. “Is killing me.”

            “Sleep it off.” Pan said, his voice as gentle as Felix had ever heard it. He felt Pan’s magic wash over his skull, and sleep took him, in the middle of the day.

 

            When he awoke, it was night. The crickets and frogs were at full chirp, nearly deafening in the night air. He jerked up, the pounding in his head still there, but faded to a manageable level now. He looked around. All the boys were dead asleep. Then he heard it. Pan’s flute.

            Heart pounding, he rose to his feet and followed the sound blindly into the forest, though this time, he grabbed his club as he walked passed it. His mind was telling him something was wrong, but that didn’t slow him. If Pan wanted him to walk into danger, he would. And it wasn’t as if _Pan_ could be in danger.

            He walked for a long time. Pan’s song floated over the air, drawing him, pulling him. He wanted to run, to get there faster, but wasn’t sure of the direction and couldn’t see very well. So he walked. He knew that Pan knew exactly how far he was, anyway; if Pan got impatient, he would bring Felix to him.

            He reached the edge of the familiar part of the forest where they normally spent their days. He ducked into the dense jungle, pushing his way through thick brush, his cloak protecting him from dreamshade and other deadly things. Pan’s song drove him forward; the song was getting louder, and Felix remembered back to the night he’d last followed Pan’s song.

            He came to the perimeter of Dark Hollow and paused, just for a moment. He’d had the misfortune of being lost in there once, a long time ago, when he was a young boy. He had never made the mistake of going there again.

            But this was where Pan’s song came from. So he pushed aside the thick vines and entered.

            He could barely see now. Out of the corners of his eyes lights darted; but whenever he looked towards them, they vanished. He knew what they were. The eyes of the shadows of those who disobeyed Pan. They were creepy and unsettling, but Felix had nothing to fear. Felix would never disobey Pan.

            Drawn in by the music, and Pan’s promises, and his kisses, Felix walked on. Finally, he came to a clearing and saw the person around which his life revolved. Pan was sitting on a dead log, back leaning against a dead trunk, relaxed, playing his flute. Felix’s heart leapt as he saw him. He walked straight for his lover.

            Pan stopped playing and looked up.

            “You would walk into Dark Hollow for me.” he said. It was only partially a question.

            “I would walk into anything for you.” Felix said. Pan tossed the flute into the air and it vanished. He reached out his hand and Felix took it. Pan pulled him in close, forcefully, pressing their lips together with power.

            Shrieks and wails erupted around them. Pan broke the kiss and turned Felix so he stood beside him. He never let go of his hand. Eerie shadows swirled around them, wailing, crying. Mournful sounds filled Felix’s ears. He didn’t know why Pan brought him here. He also didn’t care. He felt the warmth of his hand against his palm, and nothing else mattered to him.

            A scream more hideous than all the rest erupted out of the darkness, and a shadow, _the_ Shadow, flew towards them in a rage. Claws extended, teeth bared, it dove towards Felix.

            Pan put up his palm, and it immediately froze in the air. Cold fear still trickled through Felix’s veins.

            “He’s mine.” Pan said. “You can see now his level of loyalty.”

            The shadow screeched in Pan’s face. His expression didn’t waver.

            “Oh _do_ stop complaining. There’s nothing you can do about this.” The Shadow flew around them in zigzags, eyeing them both, particularly where they held hands.

            “ _Peter Pan, you are breaking the rules!”_ its voice thundered. Pan snorted.

            “When am I not?”

            The shadow screeched at him again. Peter rolled his eyes.

            “Don’t make me have to put you in your place.”

            The Shadow screeched and lunged at Peter, who didn’t flinch. It stopped inches from his face and narrowed its eyes.

            “ _Only a hundred years left, and you are NO closer to figuring out how to defeat me!”_ it cried. Felix brain was racing with all the information he’d gotten earlier that day. He tried to think, but the headache was getting worse. “ _You spend all of your time playing; wasting it, as a child does! My curse will not be broken. You will run out of time. You will die.”_

            Peter snorted.

            “Wrong, as usual.” Peter said. “I already have what I need, and the curse has already started to break.”

            Felix’s heart pounded faster. Pan had figured out a way to break the curse?!

            The Shadow glanced at Felix and started to laugh. The sound was scratchy at first, then grew into a bellowing, echoing sound that shook the dead trees, causing dry branches to rain on the ground.

            “ _You think HE has the heart of the Truest Believer?_ ” it swirled around them in maniacal glee.

            “ _He doesn’t have a drop of belief! He can’t even believe himself up dessert!”_

            Felix’s face turned scarlet from shame.

            Pan snorted.

            “Of course not.” he said. The Shadow stopped its raging zigzags and floated in front of him, squinting.

            “I’ve decided to break it the other way.”

            The Shadow turned and glared at Felix, as if seeing him for the first time. It turned and glared at where they held hands again.

            The Shadow inched up until it was nearly touching Pan’s nose. He didn’t move.

            Then it started to laugh. _“Did you think my curse would break from something as weak as True Love’s Kiss?”_

            Felix’s brain finally clicked in understanding. True Love’s Kiss. Pan had said he loved Felix, just before he kissed him. He remembered the cave shaking, the earthquake…the kiss had certainly done _something_ …

            _“Truest Believer or True Love, it doesn’t matter, Peter Pan. What you need to break the spell is a heart. Take his heart. Pay the price.”_

            The Shadow then shrieked, deafening Felix, the pounding in his head feeling like glass slicing through his brain. He felt Pan collapse beside him. Panic filled him as he knelt on the ground.

            “Pan!” he cried. He shook his shoulders. There was no response. The Shadow laughed.

            “ _This is Neverland!”_ the Shadow screeched, with glee. _“The magic here is hundreds of times more powerful than anywhere else! A simple kiss will break nothing.”_ It grinned wickedly at Felix, coming between him and the love of his life, shoving him back against a tree.

 _“The curse_ can _be broken by True Love._ ” it sneered. “ _As all curses can. But Neverland requires a much more powerful declaration than a kiss. A kiss bought him another hour or so of life. If he wants to_ break _it, and have you live, you’ll have to do something much more…penetrating.”_

            The Shadow’s hideous laughter scratched against Felix’s ears like sandpaper. He knew he had no ability to break free from the Shadow’s grasp; so when it lifted him up by his neck, he didn’t even bother to struggle. He glanced down at Pan, collapsed on the ground. His heart hammered from fear. He tried to will Pan to wake up.

            “ _But he does not have what it takes to let you do that to him.”_ It laughed again, the sound hideous in Felix’s ears. _“Of course I chose an act he could never do to break my spell. This is only a game, one he cannot and could never win.”_

The Shadow seemed to greatly enjoy saying that. Its grip on Felix’s throat tightened as he dangled in the air, his back pinned against the dead tree.

 _“So, Pan is left with plenty of options, all of them unchoosable.”_ A wicked smile cracked across its face, revealing pointed, sharp teeth inside a mouth that glowed as wide as its eyes.

            _“He can find the Truest Believer, and steal his heart for himself. He might find him before time runs out. He might not.”_ The Shadow shrugged. _“He can kill you, his True Love. That sacrifice is enough. He’s known about that one for awhile, too.”_

It laughed with glee, its claws tightening around Felix’s throat.

            _“Or, he can do what it takes to declare your True Love to the_ highest _degree, which because of his childhood, he cannot.”_

            Felix felt anger build up in him and flashed out of his mouth in a rage.

            “Why are you telling me this!” he screamed. The Shadow laughed with delight.

            “ _Because how much fun will it be, to watch you, knowing that YOU know how to break his curse, and can never do it, and will never do it!_ ” it screeched with glee. _“To watch you not even be able to tell him.”_

            Pan stirred, and flew to his feet.

            “You have always underestimated me, and you underestimate me now.” Pan said, throwing out a hand. The Shadow screamed as it was flung from Felix. He fell to the ground in a heap, coughing and rubbing his throat with his hand. The Shadow writhed as it was pinned against a cliff wall. Pan walked towards it, absolutely unafraid. “Thank you. For finally telling me how to break the curse. I will be your undoing, Shadow. I will have _all_ of your power. I will make my declaration. You have been fairly warned.”

            At that, it screeched again, opening its mouth wide, wide enough to swallow their heads, their bodies. Felix shut his eyes, and then there was silence.

            He opened his eyes again, and they were in Pan’s treehouse. The stars shone peacefully through the window, unaware of the hideous violence that rocked the dead trees in Dark Hollow.

            Felix spent most of his energy on trying to stand. His knees wanted to collapse to the ground again. He raised his eyes and focused on the source of all his strength.

            “You were never passed out.”

            Pan snorted.

            “Of course I wasn’t. The fact that cocky bastard believed his sleeping spell worked on me shows just how careless he’s gotten.”

            Felix smiled, his heart growing warmer as he realized, for perhaps the hundredth time, that Pan _never_ failed, because he was _always_ in control.

            Peter walked over to him and placed his palm on his cheek.

            “Now let’s take care of that headache.” he said. He kissed him, and the pain vanished from Felix’s head. He could think clearly again.

            “Sorry about that.” Pan said, pulling away. “But I needed you to doubt me enough to think I’d actually be weak to the Shadow. Had to trick the monster into telling me how to break his spell.”

            Felix smiled, his eyes dropping half-closed, his heart shining as he felt _just_ how in love he was.    

            “Only you could cast a spell powerful enough to make me doubt you.” he said. Pan smiled.

            “Fuck, Fee.” he said, his face warm. “Get in my bed.” he replied, pulling on his hand. Felix happily complied. Nerves hit him as he sank to the straw and remembered what the Shadow had said.

            “Are we going to…”

            “Yes, but not now.” Pan cut him off. “You are far too exhausted. Just sleep.” he said, and though Felix had spent the entire day sleeping, he found it easy to drift off, his head resting in the crook of Peter’s arm, his chest pressed against his stomach, his breathing sending him into a far more peaceful sleep than he’d had in…well, ever.


	8. Chapter 8

The days became more lighthearted. Pan invented more games than usual, to the delight of the older boys who’d grown tired of the same old routines. True to Pan’s word, every day, someone random was poisoned by dreamshade. Edges never once faltered with the emergency bucket, and nobody died.

            On a few days, Pan even let Felix choose who it would be. He glowed from the inside out; he’d always been the most privy to Pan’s plans- but now he was allowed to make decisions about things. Make choices. Influence Pan. The change in Felix’s demeanor did not go unnoticed.

            “You’re nicer lately.” Curly had commented. Felix had responded by punching him hard in the gut so he collapsed in a heap.

            “I still stand by what I said.” he gasped. Felix walked away, unable to hide the smirk on his lips or the light in his eyes.

            Pan would seek him out in the day and steal kisses. Felix would be in a hollowed out tree for hide-and-seek, and Pan would appear, press him up against the bark and kiss him until he was gasping for air. He’d sneak up on him at the beach, yank him underwater and put his hands in places that made Felix blush crimson. Felix would be walking and then suddenly be up in the top of a tree, Pan’s arms around his waist, pressing kisses to his neck. And that was only during the day.

            During the evenings, when Pan played his flute, Felix lay with his head in his lap, Pan stroking his hair with his free hand, or with both hands as he held the flute to his lips with magic. Pan was right, about the older boys starting to suspect. He didn’t care. Secret. Known. Whatever. He drowned in the bliss that was Pan’s fingers, tying feathers in his hair, braiding it, twisting it as his fingers pleased.

            Nights were heat and passion. Sometimes they went to the forest. Sometimes to the top of a bluff. Sometimes to the beach. Never back to Pan’s treehouse; though a few times they went to the bottom of the Thinking Tree. Always, Felix became helpless butter under Pan’s touch, drowning in pleasure, amazed that Pan felt what he felt. They became used to each other’s bodies; used to being fully naked and pressed up against each other, familiar and comfortable and blazingly hot.

            Pan never brought up what the Shadow had said, and Felix didn’t dare mention it. The curse of the hourglass was always in the back of their minds, yet they acted as if they had all the time in the world. If this was how Pan wanted to spend his days, Felix wouldn’t stand in his way.

            He didn’t plan to live one more second than Pan did, however long or short that was.

           

            Then one night, Felix felt himself drawn up out of his hammock. Pulled up into the air, he rose through the canopy and flew towards the top of the tallest tree, jutting far above the forest, blocking his view of the stars and crescent moon. He landed softly at Pan’s door, who was sitting on the table, one foot resting on the floor, the other bent up so his arm rested on his knee.

            Felix stood in the doorway and said nothing. Pan’s eyes burned as they stared at him.

            “I need to teach you.” he said. Felix nodded. One side of Pan’s lips upturned in that smirk that made Felix’s bones turn to jelly.

            “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

            “I will learn whatever you want me to learn.” he said. Pan rose and sauntered towards him. He reached his hand around Felix’s head and pulled him down into a kiss. It was long, and slow, and sweet. Patient. Pan was _never_ patient.

            He pulled away, a soft glow in his cheeks.

            “You need to learn what you have to do to me.” he said. Felix swallowed, his heart beating faster. He had some idea of what this entailed, but really, he had little clue. Pan’s hand slid down his arm and grasped his hand. He led him in the moonlight gently towards the bed.

            Pan turned and slowly started to undo the knots of Felix’s clothes. His cape fell to the floor, followed by his scarf, and then the furs and skins that covered his chest. From habit, from so many nights of practice, he reached out and undid Pan’s belt; slid his tunic off his shoulders. Heart racing from what his brain had learned to come to expect, he slid his palms down Pan’s sides and into his trousers, pulling them lower.

            When they were undressed Pan pulled him down towards the bed, leading him with kisses, until Felix was on his back. Pan sat up and straddled him, their cocks pressed against each other.

            Peter wrapped his hand around both of them and started to stroke. Felix moaned softly; he loved when Pan did this. He loved when Pan did anything to him. His hands rose to Pan’s hips and gently circled around them, caressing his skin, feeling his warmth and heat as he brought pleasure to them both. Pan slid his hand up and slicked it from the precum they both were leaking, and then slid off of Felix to lay beside him.

            His hand slid down to ghost over Felix’s balls, bringing a new flush to his cheeks.

            “Spread your legs for me.” Pan whispered into his ear. Felix’s heart hammered in his chest with fear. He didn’t know if he wanted this.

            “Relax, Fee.” Pan whispered. “Trust me.”

            Of course he trusted him.

            Pan’s fingers went lower, where they most certainly did not belong. Felix tried to obey, but his legs just didn’t want to listen. Pan’s magic forced them open and he closed his eyes tightly.

            “Shhhhhh.” Pan whispered, as his fingers circled around where they _did not_ belong. Pan pressed kisses into his neck as he pressed his fingers, slicked with cum, inside of Felix. Felix held still, as he knew he should, but he already could see why Pan would never want this to happen to him.

            “Here, let me help.” he whispered. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to Felix’s. A wave of relaxation flooded through his body. The tension left all of his muscles. His skin tingled with magic and his cheeks flushed.

            “You’re cheating.” Felix whispered. He felt Pan’s smirk against his neck.

            “Did you think I would do it another way?” he said. Felix’s heart skipped. Spells or not, magic or not, he wanted Pan.

            When he moved his fingers, Felix felt much more relaxed. He was being invaded, but _by Pan_. He’d allowed Pan inside his mouth and it was all he could dream of; he would learn to let him inside him in this other way.

            Pan moved his fingers, slowly in and out, rubbing along the walls inside Felix. As he got used to the sensation and it felt less foreign, he looked up into Pan’s face and started to enjoy it. Peter, inside him. The idea grew more pleasant as the minutes dripped by. Pan leaned down and kissed him again, and Felix groaned up into his lips. Pan’s fingers moved more quickly, pressing into him, exploring him, invading him.

            Pan pushed against a new place and Felix’s back arched as sensation shot through his body.

            “Mmmm, Fee.” Pan whispered into his ear. Felix shook, everything was sensitive, his skin, his face, his hair, his ass. Pan stroked that place, slowly, pressing, driving Felix crazy. He had no idea a thing that could feel _like this_ was in there.

            “Told you you would like it.” Pan said. Felix could only babble incoherently back at him. His cock was starting to swell again. His eyes wandered down to see where Pan’s hand disappeared between his legs. His cheeks flushed with heat.

            “How…did you know…” Felix managed.

            “You already know that, Fee.” Pan said, his voice soft, his breath ghosting over his ear as he spoke. “But never have I loved the person before.”

            Felix’s heart sang. He had to say the words back, he had to…

            Pan increased his speed, started thrusting his fingers harder, deeper. Felix shuddered and whimpered, willingly spreading his legs now, wanting, needing.

            “More.” he managed. Pan smirked and sat up, moving his wrist faster, sinking his fingers deeper, until they were in as far as fingers could go. Felix shuddered, the stroking against that spot sending waves of pleasure up his spine and down to his balls. Peter slid his fingers out.

            “Don’t stop _now!”_ Felix cried. Pan smirked.

            “You would tell me what to do?”

            Felix’s eyes darted wildly over the wooden ceiling.

            “I meant please!”

            Pan inhaled deeply through his nose, a huge smile spreading across his face.

            “ _Fuck_ , Fee. You never falter, not even like this.”

            Pan sat himself down between Felix’s legs. His knees pushed under Felix’s thighs, and his cock, hot and warm and slicked with cum, pushed up against Felix where his fingers had been.

            Felix’s eyes grew wide with realization, and he whined with want.

            “Really?” he asked. Pan smirked at him.

            “If you want it.”

            “ _Yes!_ ” he screamed. Peter’s eyes burned with mischievous delight as he pushed forward, the tip of his cock breaching Felix. The Lost Boy’s chest heaved as he breathed rapidly; this was not like fingers; it was so different, so much more, much too much, much much not enough too much.

            Pan slid in slowly. Felix panted, his fingers clutching the blanket under him. Pan’s hands grabbed his hips and held him steady, pushing into him where normally things went in the other direction. Felix felt everything stretching; it hurt but he wanted to like it; the idea of _what_ was in him swimming over his brain and making him drunk with lust. Pan reached the depth his fingers had and stopped.   Then he started to slide out.

            “No, you don’t have to leave…”

            “Don’t you tell me what I have to do.”

            Felix’s heart pulsed as his ass complained. Pan pulled out and then pushed back in again, a little faster this time. He repeated that motion, pulling out, then pushing back in, and finally Felix understood. It was the same as the fingers; it wouldn’t feel good at first. But then.

            He couldn’t imagine.

            Pan gradually pressed into him a little further each time, Felix’s eyes squeezing shut. It hurt. He was used to pain; all kinds, but this was new. Nothing had been in this place before. He forced his eyes open and saw Pan, looking down at him, eyes half-closed with lust and love. He wanted to please him more than anything. He wanted…

            Pan pushed into him faster this time. Felix cried out. Pan reached a steady rhythm, slower than he’d moved with his fingers, until Felix learned what to expect. The pain started to fade. The pleasure started to return.

            The pleasure spread. He was so full- of _Pan_ , of Pan’s _cock_ , pushing _in him_. The more he thought about what was happening, the more his ears burned. Heat spread through his veins and made his ass even more sensitive. With each push in, Felix started to moan. With each pull out, he became desperate for more. It was torturously slow; he wanted to _feel it_.

            “Faster.” he whispered. Pan smirked. He rose up onto his knees, lifting Felix’s legs with him. He grabbed Felix’s hips and thrust.

            Felix cried out as intensity shot through every nerve in his body. Pan withdrew and thrust again, and again, sending impossible sensations through him, pain and pleasure, muddled together, all of it intense, all of it _Pan_.

            “More.” Felix said through gritted teeth, his fingers clutching the blanket. He needed Pan in him. He didn’t care what the price was. Pan thrust into him harder, faster, making his ass throb, his heart pound, his lungs burn. He spread his legs further and Pan smirked, that smile diving into Felix’s heart as easily as his cock pushed into his body. Pan was inside him in every possible way. Every bit of Felix resonated. He was filled, from the inside out, with Pan, Pan, Peter Pan, over and over, coming into him, invading him, drowning him, taking him.

            He was dimly aware of his legs being lifted to drape over Peter’s shoulders. He heard his master’s voice, his pants as he thrust, felt his sweat, felt his heat. Felix’s body throbbed with pleasure, lust, and fire. All the hundreds of years he had lived, and he’d never known there was something as amazing as this.

            That sensitive spot inside of him rang with sensation. Felix cried out, and Pan’s eyebrow rose. He looked _pleased_. Felix felt joy.

            Pan pushed against that spot again, and Felix could only scream, his chin pointing to the ceiling, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Pan was relentless, pounding himself into Felix on _that spot_ , making his body scream, his voice scream, his heart bloom. Felix trembled as the pleasure built, swirling lower, concentrating in his ass and balls and cock.

            “ _Peter_!” he cried, the intensity releasing from him, his cum squirting across his stomach, his chest, the bed. Pulses of pleasure tore through him, making his body scream louder than his mouth could accommodate. He looked up and saw what he felt spread across Pan’s face; emotions too intense for description.

            “Fuck, Feeee!” he heard Pan cry. His beautiful eyes squeezed shut and he rammed himself so hard into Felix he slid up the bed. His perfect body shuddered, his hands clasping Felix’s hips so tightly they were bruising. Felix felt hot wetness leaking out of him and got to watch Pan’s face, for the first time with a clear view, as pleasure took him over, wiping out all the rage, all the pain, all the anger; everything.

            Peter collapsed on top of Felix’s chest, neither of them caring about the mess. They had never been ones to care about messes. Peter slid out of him, gently, and Felix grit his teeth from the ache. His ass throbbed, his pulse still pounding down there, and he wondered if his ass would ever feel normal again.

            Peter slid to the side of him and wrapped his arms around him. Felix pulled him close, holding him to his chest, placing gentle kisses on his forehead and against his temple. He was shaking.

            “Before you ask, no, never.” Peter said, his breath still coming in short, quick pants. “The others don’t count; nothing, no one, could compare to that.”

            Felix pulled him in close and held him tightly.

            “I don’t care about them. They don’t matter.” he whispered. They both clutched each other tightly, as if something would try to tear them apart. As if Pan wasn’t the most powerful being that existed. As if anyone could even get to them.

            Exhausted, they both fell asleep, the moon shining across their faces, nothing about them appearing at all evil, or cursed, or hundreds of years old. They looked simply like two boys, in love, asleep.

            The sand in the hourglass slowed again; now barely trickling one grain at a time down through the thin neck in the glass; but it did not stop. Deep in Dark Hollow, the Shadow laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! The last update. This story is finally complete :). It's not perfect; but I've worked at it long enough and it's time for me to finish it. I've got to move on to other stuff. So my apologies for any plot holes or other flaws. I've worked it to death and this is the best I have to give. I really hope you enjoy!

After that, Pan never left the evening bonfire without Felix. When he vanished for the night, he vanished Felix with him. If they’d had passion before, they had raging fire now. One or the other would try to be patient, if just for a few moments in frantic kisses and the tearing off of clothes, but it never lasted. Pan fucked Felix hard into his bed, sweat glistening on both of their skin, their cries and pants chasing the birds that tried to roost in the Thinking Tree away each night. Felix would stare up into Pan’s burning eyes and drown in them, helpless to the pleasure, always surprised each time, somehow, at how _amazing_ it felt to have Pan inside him.

            Just as with their games during the day; Pan had no lack of imagination. The first time he threw Felix face down onto the bed, Felix had tried to get up and flip himself over- only to feel Pan’s palm force him back down onto his stomach. After that first time, Felix would beg Pan to take him from behind; he’d try to stay on all fours but always wound up collapsed flat by the end, barely remembering to turn his head to get some air.

            Sometimes Pan would slam his back against the wall and fuck him standing up- flying just a bit so he’d be taller than Felix, his eyes rolled back in his head as the only thing holding him up was Pan’s cock thrusting into him. It became all Felix lived for. Where the days used to be his life and the night was a dream, it was now switched—he floated through the days in a fog, hardly remembering or caring what happened, and he lived for the night. Pan would fuck him for hours, his infinite supply of energy never wearing out until he chose; and when they made love for too long, Pan simply extended the length of night so that they still got their full sleep before dawn.

            Pan always woke up at dawn. Or rather, dawn woke up with Pan. The sun did not rise until he crowed. Felix hadn’t known. No matter how long he lived in Neverland, no matter how close he became to Pan, he was always surprised by _how much_ power he really had. Felix saw now that he hardly used it. He used it all day; but in drops, tiny amounts. What he displayed was _nothing_ compared to what he _could_ do.

            It made the fact that the Shadow held him prisoner all that much more _wrong_.

            He did his best not to think about it.

            This morning, Felix lay in bed, his head propped up on his palm, staring at the beautiful, naked creature sitting in the window, the golden morning sun shining on his skin. Pan turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

            “Staring at anything interesting?”

            Felix didn’t have the words. He never had the words.

            “Only everything.” he said, dragging his eyes over Pan’s _perfect_ body. He floated back to the bed and crawled back under the blanket, facing Felix, tracing his fingers over his shoulder.

            “Tell me about when we met.” Felix said. Pan snorted.

            “What for? You were there.”

            Felix lay down, his eyes looking up into the green emeralds that had become his whole life. No, that had _always been_ his whole life.

            “I know what happened from _my_ point of view.” he said. “Tell me yours.”

            Pan nodded, thoughtful. He sat up, cross-legged, leaning his back against the wall, still completely naked.

            “Most people think there are two ways to become a Lost Boy.” Pan said, curling his nails around and staring at them, as if this was the most boring story in the world and it was a chore for him to tell it.

            “You can sit at your window and whisper you believe; and the shadow will come for you.” he said. “That was the old way. Or,” he stretched his arms above his head and entwined his fingers behind it, looking even more relaxed and bored than he had before. “…you can be lucky enough for me to come to your village. And if you’re Lost, you’ll hear my flute, and you’ll come, and I’ll take you home.”

            Felix saw the spark light in Pan’s eyes and he didn’t bother to hide his smile. He never did, anymore; not while he was in this treehouse. He had nothing at all to hide here.

            “The third way,” Pan said. “Has only ever been done once.”

            The shine from Felix’s heart spread into his cheeks and made them glow.

            “You can sit at your bedroom window, and instead of whispering for the Shadow, you can directly summon Pan.”

            At that, Peter crawled back into bed, sliding into the blankets beside Felix, reaching out to stroke his hair as he spoke.

            “No one else has ever been brave enough to directly summon Pan.” he whispered. Felix turned his head and started to kiss Pan’s palm.

            “Brave.” he said, his voice muffled by Pan’s skin. “I was desperate and terrified. How old was I?”

            Pan shrugged. “Five or six?”

            Felix nodded. Sounded right.

            “Anyway. Here I am, sitting atop this treehouse, playing my flute—playing a song I’m pretty sure no one will ever hear, though fuck was I wrong about that—and I hear, across the sky, across the wind, my name.”

            Felix grinned, and blushed, and buried his face in Pan’s palm.

            “It _was_ desperate, and it _was_ terrified. But not _of_ me…” he said softly, “but terrified that I might not come.”

            Peter rolled over until he was lying on top of Felix, their bare chests pressed together. He rested his elbows on either side of Felix’s head and propped his face up in his hands.

            “That is an attribute that _still_ belongs only to you.” he said. “You’ve never been afraid of me.”

            “How could I be.” Felix said. Pan laughed.

            “How could you _not_ be?”

            Felix gave him a bewildered look. Peter shook his head, smiling, and continued.

            “So, I flew, across the sky, across the realms. Came to a window. Saw a boy who was more than Lost. Saw a boy suffering, in the way I had suffered. His own father on top of him, in his bed. Hands where they didn’t belong.”

            Peter snarled the words, his face becoming enraged, his eyes flashing with a remnant of the darkness they’d had that night.

            “I had the opportunity for the smallest amount of revenge.” he said. “All my power, and I could never change what had happened to me. But _that_ monster felt my rage- when I was done with him, he was nothing but blood and bits of flesh, splattered across every wall, the floor, the ceiling, the bed, the boy.”

            Felix closed his eyes and remembered. Remembered seeing nothing but a flash of darkness; hearing his father’s scream for only a second, hearing flesh tear, bones crunch, feeling the blood splatter on him. Feeling relieved. Feeling safe. For all of his life, he’d cried for help. For all of his life, he’d screamed and no one had come. Until he finally called for the right person. The one who came.

            “This boy opens his eyes and sees _Pan_ , at his utmost rage and fury, growling, drenched in blood; showing my true self on the outside, as I so rarely do, and what does he do?”

            Peter moved his hand and slid his fingers over Felix’s lips.

            “He smiles.”

            Felix smiled.

            “I should have known _right then_.” Peter said. “I should have known it was you, who I would love.”

            Felix pushed up and kissed him on his lips softly.

            “Only took you a few centuries to figure it out.”

            Pan rose and flicked his forehead, the blanket falling away, giving Felix a perfect view of his ass as he walked towards the table. Breakfast appeared and Felix expected for them to become dressed, as they normally did, but instead Peter turned, looking at him, thoughtful.

            “Is that why you love that I’m evil, as they say?” he asked. Felix sat up and furrowed his brow. Did he love that Pan was evil? It certainly didn’t bother him. But would he care, if suddenly, tomorrow, Pan decided to become “good”? Would it change how he felt about him?

            Felix stared into the face that ruled his life and almost laughed at such a ridiculous question. Of course it wouldn’t.

            “I don’t wish you were good or love that you’re evil.” he said. “I’d love you either way.”

            The Thinking Tree started to tremor; more than it did normally from the wind. The tremors grew, and both boys looked out to see all of Neverland trembling. Tumultuous waves churned around Skull rock and they watched it sink, two, three feet into the sea, and then stop.

            Inside the hourglass, the golden sand halted. The hourglass remained; the curse was not broken, but it was frozen. Felix and Pan looked at each other for a long moment, before Pan sauntered back towards the bed. Felix welcomed him, opening his arms, awaiting his kiss. Pan melted into him, rolling onto his back, pulling Felix down upon him. Felix smiled with half-closed eyes as he kissed down Pan’s neck. They’d never had sex in the daylight before. This would be new.

            He kissed down Pan’s chest, pausing to lap slowly at his nipple, making his lover groan underneath him. Tickling his fingers down Pan’s stomach, he brushed his knuckles against the tip of Pan’s cock, and he hummed. Felix smiled, knowing now exactly how Pan liked it. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, just below the head, and started to pull down, hard and slow. Pan groaned.

            “Fee.” he said softly. Felix lifted his head from licking Pan’s nipple and looked into his eyes, waiting for whatever instructions Pan was going to give him.

            “Fee, break the spell.”

            Felix’s heart beat faster from nerves and fear.

            “Now?”

            Pan nodded.

            “Yes, now.”

            Felix looked into his eyes and saw about ten thousand different forms of hesitation.

            “Are you sure?”

            “What kind of question is that?” Pan snapped.

            “You just… don’t look sure.”

            “ _Just do it_.”

            Felix swallowed, trying to calm the nerves that unsettled him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what to do. Pan had spent months…“teaching” him. He dragged his hand up Pan’s cock, trying to slick his fingers with precum, but there wasn’t any. He looked back into Pan’s face.

            “You don’t want this.” he said. Peter became angry and glared at him.

            “Of course I don’t! That’s not the point! It doesn’t matter, just _do it_!”

“It _does_ matter, and I won’t!” Felix said, pulling his hand away. Peter rolled away from him, slapping his palm against the wooden floor so hard the entire treehouse shook.

            “Why, of _all times_ , do you chose _now_ to disobey me?!” he said, flying to his feet in a rage. Suddenly, they were dressed. Felix stood also, towering above Pan, glaring down at him.

            “I’m _not_.” he spat. “I would _never_. I _always_ do what Pan wants.”

            “Then why don’t you do as I say!?” he growled.

            “Because, for the first time _ever_ , what you _say_ isn’t what you _want_!” he shouted back. Peter screamed with rage. The treehouse shook with his fury; and then they were on the ground at the roots of the Thinking Tree. Felix heard the sound of shattering wood echo over the treetops and off the cliffs of Neverland, as thousands of splinters rained down around them from what was once the treehouse. Peter screamed incoherently. Felix leaned against a tree trunk and sighed, rolling his eyes. It had been awhile since Pan threw a temper tantrum- but not, of course, because he’d grown up any. He’d just been incredibly happy lately; and now, he wasn’t.

            Felix stood still and just waited for it to pass, as always. He couldn’t stay mad forever; though the sound of thunder as trees were ripped up by their roots made it seem otherwise. Felix lost sight of him, but all of Neverland could hear him as he tore up entire chunks of forest. Felix’s stomach growled. Dammit; Pan hadn’t believed breakfast. He’d probably have to hunt if he wanted to eat today.

            “ _There_ you are.” Peter’s voice said. Felix turned his head and caught a glimpse of green, just before he felt fingers clasp his shoulders so hard they felt like claws.

            “You and I need to _talk_.” Pan spat, and Felix was yanked backwards.

            He appeared in a cave, and crashed backwards onto the hard stone floor, making him pretty sure he was going to have bruises on his shoulder blades tomorrow.

            He couldn’t see a damned thing.

            “What were you even _thinking_?” Peter screamed at him out of the darkness.

            “I already told you…”

            He felt fingers around his throat and was slammed into the cave wall. Felix sighed and rolled his eyes.

            “Don’t you argue with me!” Pan screamed. _Fuck_ , he was so immature when he was like this.

            “When I give you an order, you obey it!” he screamed. Felix tried to answer, but found his air getting cut off. Pan let go of him and he fell to the ground in a heap, coughing, gasping.

            A ball of fire appeared in Pan’s hand, lighting up his face in uneven shadows and light, his uneven teeth glistening sharp against the darkness.

            “If you won’t do as I ask.” he growled. “Then you don’t love me.” he spat. “So take it back.”

            Felix managed to sit up, resting his back against the wall. That’s what this was about? He was upset that Felix had said he loved him? His throat throbbed as he swallowed, trying to speak without coughing.

            “Can’t.” he said. Pan raged and threw the fireball into the far wall of the cave. It exploded against the stone, molten bits of rock flying in every direction, and Felix was plunged again into darkness.

            “If you won’t obey me, then I’ll have to find someone else to take your place.” Pan growled. Felix knew the words were meant to hurt him, but he only rolled his eyes. He knew there was no one who could replace him. “Which means I need _them_ to love me. So _take it back!_ ”

            Felix sighed.

            “I _can’t_.” he said. “Even if I wanted to.”

            And fuck, did he feel like taking it back right now. But he knew one little temper tantrum wasn’t going to change how he felt.

            Peter’s rage shook the walls of the cave so chunks of rock rained down on Felix’s head. Some of the larger ones really hurt. One of them fell onto his face just above his eye, slicing the skin open. He threw his hood over his head to protect himself.

            “Then I will just _kill you!_ ” Peter screamed, and Felix felt his body flung through the air. He crashed into another wall, hitting his elbow first. He heard the crack as the bones in his arm shattered. He grit his teeth and held his tongue. It wasn’t as if he’d never broken his arm before, and he sure as _hell_ wasn’t going to give Pan the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to him.

            He heard Pan’s voice grow louder as he stormed closer- though he didn’t hear a single footstep. He was probably flying without even meaning to, he was so pissed off.

            “I’ve spent all this time.” he said, his voice no longer shouting, which made it even more menacing. “ _Months_ of time, _coddling_ you, _teaching_ you, being _patient_ with you. Putting _up_ with you. All for this singular goal. To break me from the curse of death. You have _one purpose_ , Felix, and when the moment comes for you to _fulfill it_ , you fail me!”

            It was probably the pain in his arm that made him weaker, but Pan’s words stung. He’d wanted to believe he meant more to Pan than simply a means to an end- but maybe that was hoping too much. Every action Pan had done in his life pointed otherwise. _Everything_ was a means to an end with him. Why should Felix be an exception?

            “I can see you need time to wrap your weak brain around this concept.” Pan said. “I’ll leave you to consider your options. You have two.” Felix heard shifting in the darkness as Pan moved. “One: You have failed to break the spell and live. So take _back_ your love, no longer be the heart I need, and live. Or two: keep your words. Mean them. And then I’m forced to take your heart for myself.”

            He heard Pan take a few steps away from him.

            “I’ll leave you to think about that, then.” he sneered. “Oh, and don’t bother trying to get out. We’re in the Cave of Echoes, and with no one to tell any secrets to, you cannot leave.”

            Then Pan was gone.

            Felix struggled against his cape, which was tangled under him, and the pain in his arm, which was shooting up into his skull, worsening the pain from the rocks that had hit his head. He slowly sat up, which proved to be a bad idea. Blood dripped down his face, getting into his eye. He reached up with his good hand and wiped it away. His eyes teared, and he told himself it was only from the blood in them. Pan was only having a temper tantrum, that was all.           

            Felix remembered back to Skull Rock. When he’d offered his heart to Pan _then_. And he’d _refused_ it. Wanted to find another way. Went through the trouble of tricking the Shadow to tell them another way. Spent months, as he’d said, working towards that goal.

            And Felix had just fucked it up.

            He leaned his head against the side of the cave and let the tears fall. Sitting in the darkness, his eyes absolutely useless, he could finally see. Of course all he meant to Pan was a way to break the curse. That’s _all_ he was. From the beginning, Pan knew he needed a True Love. Someone who loved him. So he just looked at all his Lost Boys, found the one who loved him most, and let him grow up. For this purpose. For this one, sole reason. All of it; everything, was nothing more than Pan’s plan to live.

            Felix lowered his head between his arms, ignoring the searing pain from his broken bones. None of this was worth it. He wished Pan had just taken his heart when he’d first offered it. He didn’t want to live, if this was all he was. He sat, unmoving, for what felt like hours- though he wasn’t one to be a very good judge of the passing of time- and waited for his master to return.

 

 

            Felix stirred from sleep as he heard footsteps.

            He heard flesh fall in front of his feet.

            “Eat.”

            Feeling around in the darkness, Felix found a carcass on the ground. It was still hot, having just come off of a fire. His stomach growled at him. He didn’t even know what it was; though probably from the size it was a turkey.

            “Eat, dammit. Nobody can make decisions on an empty stomach.”

            His hunger overrode everything else. He tore at the meat with his good hand, shoving it hungrily into his mouth. He didn’t even bother to taste it. Pan sat, or stood, he couldn’t tell in the darkness, across from him, and neither of them spoke while he desperately shoved food into his mouth and swallowed.

            He sat back against the wall of the cave, exhausted.

            “Finished?”

            He nodded. He heard Pan rise. He threw the carcass somewhere into the oblivion of the cave.

            “Now. I trust you’ve had enough time to think.” Pan’s voice growled at him. Felix sighed. It wasn’t like him to be angry for _this_ long. Maybe this wasn’t just a tantrum. Maybe he was actually mad. Maybe he was through playing games with Felix.

            “I present to you your choices again: Take it _back_ , or you will _die_.” he snarled. He sounded inches away. Felix shrugged. Life without Pan was a worthless life.

            “Then I will die.” he said. Hadn’t they already had this conversation?

            “ _Dammit_ , Felix!” Pan’s voice was roaring so loud it was twisted; sounding more like the monster in him and less like the human. “Why are you so _fucking_ stubborn? If I’d have known you would be like this, I’d never have played my flute in your village!”

            “…what?”

            Pan started screaming some more, but Felix wasn’t listening. His brain was racing, trying to think, even though his head was killing him from the rocks that had hit it. He and Pan had been in the treehouse. And then they weren’t. Nothing unusual there…

            He pushed his good hand against the wall to steady himself and forced himself to his feet, even though he was incredibly dizzy and couldn’t see a damn thing.

            “Show yourself.” he said, but “Pan” continued ranting, the words hardly words anymore, the Shadow’s rage showing through its clever mimicry of Pan’s voice. _That’s_ why it was hiding in the darkness.

            “ _Show_ yourself, you coward!” Felix screamed, all of his strength returning. It had all been a trick, to get him to take back his words. He sneered. He should have realized sooner.

            A ball of fire appeared in a hand that looked like Pan’s, revealing a face that looked like his, but now Felix could see the image shifting, not from the firelight, but from the fact that it was just a shadow. Felix rose and stepped forward, towards it steadily. It only hadn’t killed him because it thought it could still get him to take his declaration back. He had one shot at this, or he was dead.

            “Have you changed your mind, Felix?” it growled.

            “Yes.” he said, and the Shadow stopped ranting, allowing him to approach. “I have only one more thing to say.”

            He stepped until he was inches from its face, the fireball burning hot so close to his skin.

            “I.” he started. The Shadow held perfectly still, it’s face creepy in the firelight as it awaited Felix’s words.

            “Summon.”

            It’s expression changed as it realized Felix knew, but it was too late.

            “Pan.”

            The ceiling above them tore open, the sunlight beaming through, Pan flying in a dark rage, exactly as he had the first time when Felix met him. His power slammed against the Shadow, throwing it into the far cave wall. It shrieked so loudly Felix’s ears rang, writhing as Pan held it, plastered to the wall with his power alone.

            “How _dare_ you try to take him from me!” he screamed. The Shadow flew at him, throwing Pan into the shadows of the cave and pinning his back against the far wall. Peter raised his hand and more of the ceiling crumbled, more sunlight pouring into the cave, striking the Shadow. It screeched and yanked Pan further into the darkness. For a moment it appeared as if Pan actually couldn’t break free from the Shadow’s grasp. Then he planted his feet on the ground, the stone encompassing them, halting him in place. The Shadow’s speed caused it to lose its grip, and then Pan was able to vanish and appear in the middle of the sunlight.

            A wave of invisible power flew from his outstretched palm, slamming the Shadow against the wall of the cave in the sunlight. It shrieked and writhed, trying to move out of the light. Pan’s entire arm shook as sweat beaded on his forehead. For awhile they appeared equal in power; the Shadow unable to escape but Pan barely able to contain it. Then Peter crunched his fingers and the Shadow shrank, wailing as the space it took up became smaller. The sunlight burned around it, holding it in place.

            “If you destroy me, you break our deal!” the Shadow screamed, fighting with all of its power against Pan. “All of your power will return to me, and I will kill you both!”

            “I don’t need to destroy you.” Pan growled, crunching his fingers slowly into a fist. The rocks around the Shadow curled in imitation of the shape of Pan’s hand, gradually closing in on the Shadow, until there was nothing but tiny holes in the top of a hollow, rocky prison. Pan flicked his hand and ignited candles appeared in the interior of the Shadow’s cage, and it fell silent.

            “I just need to trap you.” he said. His hand collapsed at his side as he panted from exhaustion.

            He turned and saw Felix, covered in dust, blood dripping down his face, his right arm hanging at a funny angle by his side.

            Pan appeared at his side and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Felix hissed as his broken arm was crushed, even as his good arm wrapped tightly around Pan’s back.

            Then they were back in his treehouse.


	10. Chapter 10

Pan let go of him and ran his palm down Felix’s dirty, bloody cheek.

            “I thought I’d lost you.” he said softly, pulling Felix’s head down and pressing their lips together. “I couldn’t feel you.. I thought I’d lost you.”

            Felix smiled softly. He knew a Pan apology when he didn’t hear one.

            “You didn’t.” he said. Pan stepped back and took Felix in.

            “Bloody hell, what did he do to you?” Pan said, his face showing more concern than Felix could ever remember seeing in his life.

            Felix shrugged with his good shoulder and looked down at his arm.

            “Broken arm.” he said. “Couple scrapes.”

            “Here.”

            Pan reached out and touched his fingers to the cut on Felix’s forehead. He felt it heal, Pan’s magic spreading into the cut and through his skin, soothing his headache, the pain fading until it was gone.

            Peter pressed his entire palm to Felix’s face. He closed his eyes and felt Pan’s fingers gently caressing his skin, the blood and dirt and scrapes disappearing as he passed his hand over them. His touch was incredibly gentle, while his magic was unfathomably powerful, spreading through Felix’s skin, invading his blood, swirling around his heart.

            “Let’s look at the rest of you.”

            Peter’s fingers moved down to the ties on his clothes, gingerly pulling them off. Dust rose up off the floor as they fell in a heap. Peter stroked his hands through Felix’s hair and then it was clean. He slid his palms over Felix’s skin and the cuts and scrapes and dirt were gone. He gently slid his palms over Felix’s broken arm, and the pain disappeared as Felix’s bones moved back to where they belonged. The comforting tingling sensation of Pan’s magic faded from his skin. Felix held it up and twisted his palm in front of his face. He smiled.

            “Better than new.” he said.

            Pan threw his arms around him and held him tightly, his face pressed into his neck. Felix wrapped his arms around Pan’s back, pulling him close.

            “What did it want with you.” he said. Felix closed his eyes, chasing away the nightmarish hours of his life when he’d thought he’d actually be talking to Pan.

            “Tried to trick me into thinking it was you. Worked for a short while.” he said. “Wanted me to take back…”

            After hours of refusing to take back his words, he felt the need to say them again. He pulled back and looked down into Pan’s face, which was far more tortured than it ever had business being. Felix brushed the backs of his knuckles along Pan’s cheek and locked his gaze onto his gorgeous green eyes.

            “It wanted me to un-say that I love you.” he said. “Which is impossible.”

            Peter closed his eyes and leaned his face it towards Felix’s fingers. He opened his palm and Pan pressed the side of his face into it.

            “He tried to convince me that I only had two choices: take it back or you would have to kill me, take my heart.” he said. He bit his lower lip and inwardly winced. “I believed him.”

            He saw the sneer spread across Pan’s face and his eyes flew open with rage. Had this enemy been anyone else, he knew Pan would have killed him, torn him limb from limb in seconds.

            “But it only knows what happens in Neverland.” Felix said. “It didn’t know how we met. He guessed that wrong. And the _second_ I knew he wasn’t _you_ …” Felix cringed that he’d ever been fooled… “I summoned you. I believed you would come.”

            Peter closed his eyes again, leaning his face into Felix’s palm, the rage fading from his face and being replaced by affection.

           “You believe in me more than I do.” Peter said softly. Felix smirked.

            “Finally, you understand.”

            Peter’s eyes rose to meet his, and though it was impossible, Felix felt as though Peter _saw_ him for the first time.

            “It’s you.” he said. The corner of Felix’s mouth turned up.

            “Did you think I was someone else?”

            “No…I just didn’t realize it was _you_. I thought I only _loved_ you.”

            Felix cocked his head as he stared at Pan and waited for him to explain.

            “ _You_ are the Truest Believer.” he said. “You believe in Pan more than anyone. More than Pan himself.”

            Felix snorted.

            “Of course. Is that all it takes?”

            Pan smiled at him, in that way that showed his crooked teeth, that way that made Felix’s knees threaten to give out on him.

            “All it takes, you little brat.”

            Felix smirked at him and leaned down, pressing his lips to Pan’s. Pan kissed him back softly, inhaling, breathing as if he hadn’t had air.

            Everything seemed completely different than it had this morning.

            Pan reached up and brushed a lock of Felix’s knotted hair out of his eyes.

            “I thought I’d lost you.” he said a third time, and in that sentence Felix heard the undercurrent of fear, actual _fear_ , in Pan’s voice. Pan should never feel fear. It wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense with the universe Felix knew. Felix kissed the corner of his mouth.

            “You could never lose me.” he said. He placed soft kisses across Pan’s jaw, moving his lips past his cheek.

            “I belong to you.” he said in Pan’s ear. He watched it blossom red, and he kissed it, tracing his tongue around the shell.

            “Fuck, Fee…” Pan whispered. Felix pulled his body close and could feel Pan’s heart beating powerfully against his chest. Felix smiled into his neck as he trailed kisses down it, stroking his hands down Pan’s back. Peter started to return the kisses, just as gently, just as softly, his lips pressing against Felix’s shoulder and drifting down his bicep.

            Felix’s fingers drifted to the buckle of Pan’s belt, undoing it without needing to look, his lips not leaving Pan’s neck. It felt to the floor with a clang, Pan’s tunic fluttering after it. Felix moved his hands over Pan’s bare back, feeling his muscles, his spine, the curve where his ass began. He slid his fingers into Pan’s trousers, freeing him from them, and then Pan grew impatient, and they were both instantly naked.

            They drifted down to the bed, still drowning each other in slow, gentle kisses. The sun dipped low in the sky, its orange rays spreading across the bed, turning Pan’s hair golden. Felix pulled Peter’s hand up to his lips and kissed each finger, sweetly, gently, his heart thrumming within him.

            Felix rolled until he was on top of Pan, kissing down his neck now with passion, making Peter shudder.

            “Ffeee…”

            “Mmmm?” he said, sucking Peter’s skin into his mouth, nipping at it the way he liked, sliding his tongue along his collarbone. Peter never finished his sentence, his words getting lost in groans as Felix slid his tongue over first one nipple, than the other, leaving a trail of drool. He moved his fingers up to stroke them while he meandered kisses down Pan’s stomach, circling his navel with his tongue. He still moved incredibly slowly, with a patience he’d never known in his life. By the time he finally reached Pan’s dick, the sun was long gone, the first stars beginning to twinkle in the sky.

            Felix sucked the warm head into his mouth and Pan melted under him, his entire body relaxing. He groaned and Felix slid his tongue down inside the foreskin, lapping at the head, knowing _exactly_ how to make Pan feel good.

            He felt fingers in his hair; not grasping with desperate passion, but stroking with gentle reverence. Felix took Pan into his mouth languidly, inching down and sucking back up, reveling in the pleasure of feeling it swell more in his mouth as the moments passed. He sucked Pan deeper into him, until he could no longer breathe, and heard Pan’s short gasps intensify. Felix pressed his tongue to the side and dragged it up along with his lips, flicking the tip when he reached the top.

            “Fee _eee_!” Peter cried.

            Felix sat up, now squarely between Peter’s spread legs. He slipped his fingers up his lover’s dick and grasped the top in his fist. Peter was leaking so much it was pooling on his chest. Felix coated his fingers and slid the back of his hand, so as not to waste it, along the inside of Peter’s thigh. His entire body tensed when he realized what Felix was doing.

            “Shhhhhhh.” Felix said softly. “It’s just me.”

            He gently spread the cum over Pan’s hole, Felix’s body keeping him from closing his legs. He reached down and stroked his own swollen dick, catching his own cum and coating his fingers even further. He rested his fingers against Pan’s burning hot skin and looked up at his face.

            He nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched tight. Felix remembered what his first time had felt like- and though he knew it wasn’t the same for Peter, he still knew how to be gentle. He pressed his fingers inside, only two. Peter bit his lower lip and whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut.

            “Open your eyes, Peter.” Felix said softly. “It’s only me.”

            He listened. Peter’s green eyes locked onto Felix’s face, and he felt him relax, just a bit.

            “See?” he said. “You trust me.”

            He slid his fingers gradually out and then back in, repeating the motion, slowly, gently. Each time he pressed in he could feel Peter holding his breath; but they kept their eyes locked together. Felix had to keep him _here_ , in the present, with him. He couldn’t let him go back there, to before Neverland.

            He pressed his fingers against the inside of Pan and could feel that spot inside him. He didn’t know if that spot had a name, but he knew how sensitive it was in himself. He wanted it to feel _good_ for Peter.

            With his other hand he reached up and started to stroke Pan’s cock. He slid his thumb over the slit, slicking around the head the way he did with his tongue. Peter’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back on the bed. Felix smiled.

            He moved his fingers inside Pan and stroked against that spot. Pan’s eyes flew open and he cried out, his voice shaky, his breaths coming in pants, now. Felix felt his cock grow in his palm. More precum leaked out of it, and Felix caught it, bringing it down to slick over his own dick.

            The stars were all out, now. Felix lost track of time. He worked Pan patiently, adding more fingers until he was up to all four, spreading him open. Peter relaxed as time went by, his fingers ceasing to clasp the blankets. Felix slicked both his and Pan’s precum over his dick with his other hand for just as long, hoping it would be enough. He was a little worried at how much bigger his dick was- but he knew by now that it would eventually feel _amazing_ ; just as soon as Pan let him in.

            Felix slid his fingers out slowly and shifted to his knees, pressing the head of his cock against Pan’s skin _fuck_ he was warm.

            He waited.

            Peter breathed heavily, his fingers already tightly clasping the blanket in anticipation. Felix shifted.

            “Wait.”

            Felix froze.

            Pan lifted his fingers, and suddenly cum was _covering_ Felix’s dick, from base to tip, as if someone had just finished all over it, and he smirked.

            So _that_ was how he did it.

            “You’re always cheating.” Felix said. Peter quirked an eyebrow up at him.

            “You gonna wait till the sun comes up?”

            Felix sighed with affection. Damn, he loved this boy.

            He pushed forward, staring at Pan’s stomach because he couldn’t bear to look at his face just then. He breached him easily, from all the work he had done, and _shit he was tight and hot._

Pressure and heat surrounded Felix’s sensitive tip in a way not even Pan’s mouth had done and _fuck_.

            It took a lot more self-control than he knew he had to ease in gently; his cock was screaming at him to _just fuck already_.

            He forced himself to go slowly. He looked up at Peter’s face. Love. He loved him. Pan was gritting his teeth.

            Felix remembered to stop before he got very far, pulled out, and then slowly pushed in again.

            Gently, with all the patience he’d been practicing for the past four hundred years, he worked his way inside. His fingers clasped Pans’ hips, pulling him close and then pushing him back, moving their bodies together as Pan clenched his jaw and his eyes closed.

            “Peter, look at me.” he said. He shook his head. Felix reached down and picked up Pan’s hand. He kissed the back of it, his knuckles, his fingers.

            “Peter, _look_ at me.”

            He opened his eyes, and Felix watched relief fall across his face.

            “Fee.” he said softly.

            “Yeah.” he said, pushing into Peter again. This time, their eyes stayed on each other. Felix held his hand as he moved his hips, almost completely forgetting about the incredible sensations his dick was feeling as he stared into those beautiful eyes.

            Almost.

            Felix felt the warmth of Pan’s ass press against his balls. He sank the rest of the way in and closed his own eyes, trembling as his hands went back to Peter’s hips. He held still for what felt like forever. It might have been.

            “You can move anytime.”

            Felix opened his eyes and gave Pan a look. Peter blew him a kiss. His cheeks were flushed; his breaths coming fast but even. Felix took that bit of encouragement and slid out halfway, then pushed in faster.

            “Nngh.” Peter said. Pleasure rushed through Felix’s blood and he wasn’t nearly as hesitant the second time. Or the third. The faster he moved, the faster he _needed_ to move. It took all he had to keep a slow pace, watching Pan’s face, his eyes, his body. This was for him. Not for Felix.

            “C’mon, Fee. That all you got?”

            Oh, no. He was _not_ getting his way this time.

            “You’ll see.”

            Peter grunted with annoyance, and Felix knew it was okay. If he was comfortable enough to feel annoyed, he was fine.

            Felix thrust.

            “Nnngh!”

            Peter’s cry spoke to the pleasure Felix just felt. It shot through his body and infected his brain, tingling down his spine and out into his blood. He rose up onto his knees, lifting Pan’s ass with him and thrust again, and again. Pleasure radiated through him, his body pulsing with heat as Pan cried out each time.

            Peter was still a tense ball of nerves, but Felix’s patience was gone. It felt too good. It felt incredible. He thrust into Peter, pulling him close by his hips, burning with pleasure. Peter has his eyes closed again, and Felix’s eyes were distracted by his cock, which grew harder with each thrust. He knew Pan felt good. But it wasn’t enough.          

            “Peter, open your _eyes_.” he said through heavy breaths. “Let me _in_.”

            He didn’t listen. Felix somehow found his brain. He slowed down. Held still. Reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers across Pan’s cheek.

            “Peter.” he said. “It’s Fee.”

            He opened his eyes, and Felix tried one more time.

            “Let me in.” he said.

            Peter reached up his hand and clasped his fingers around Felix’s. He held them to his face, and nodded.

            Felix started to move again.

            “Uhhnn…” Pan groaned. Felix felt him start to relax.

            “Yeah?” Felix asked. He pushed in faster. Pan _purred_.

            “That so.” Felix said. He clasped Pan’s hips and thrust. Peter’s eyes flew _wide_ open, staring into Felix’s face, his cheeks and ears burning with pleasure as he hummed.

            A smile spread across Felix’s face as he saw the pleasure spread over his lover. His eyes fell half-closed as he pushed into Peter hard, sliding him up the bed with each thrust. His hips burned and he hardly noticed. His heart raced and his pulse pounded, driving him in deeper, harder; Pan’s grunts of pleasure turning into his name.

            “Fee, Fee, Fee, Fee…” he repeated, over and over, and Felix’s heart didn’t know what to do with itself. His muscles grew tired but everything felt easier. Pan felt lighter, and Felix would have laughed if he wasn’t so heavily drowned in lust as they started to float off the bed. The blanket started to float, too. He saw a bit of toast from breakfast drift above their heads, and realized that everything in the treehouse was flying.

            Pan moved and sat up, pulling their chests close together, wrapping his arms around Felix. Felix slowed…

            “Fuck Fee, _don’t stop_!”

            Felix pounded up into Pan, shaking his entire body with the force of each thrust. Pan’s head collapsed on Felix’s shoulder and he moaned in rhythm, his body turning to jelly as Felix and magic held him up, his muscles useless.

            Felix leaned forward and kissed his throat, his neck, his shoulders. He ran his hands up his sides, up his back, and kissed his lips, fucking him harder and harder. Pan moaned into his mouth, shoving his tongue in deep, his hands flying to Felix’s head to pull him in closer. Pan started to rock back, moving his body in time with Felix’s. Lust swallowed Felix whole and Pan became all he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel. Pan was all there was to him.

            Pan started to tremble and then he tensed, his grip around Felix’s neck forceful, pulling them together. His eyes rolled back in his head and he screamed.

            “ _Feliiiix!”_

Pan’s pleasure crackled across his skin as he orgasmed, his back arching until his chest pointed to the ceiling. Felix clutched him close as Pan lost control, his fingers pulling hard against Felix’s hair. His magic grew so powerful it appeared, green lightening flashing through his body and jolting through Felix as Pan came. Felix felt every wave, every pulse of his orgasm, splashing on his stomach and thundering through his body. He swore the sky outside flashed green in time with the pulses of Pan’s pleasure. The magic invaded Felix, driving him to his own release, making his body scream as if an earthquake ripped through him, giving everything he had into Pan, for Pan, because of Pan.

            They crashed to the bed, and Felix heard the crash of all the objects from the table as they fell. Still inside Peter, Felix held his body close to himself, his arms wrapped tightly around him, as if protecting him, somehow.

            Peter reached up a shaky, trembling hand and put it to Felix’s cheek. Felix pulled back and looked into his eyes, and they were glowing brilliantly green, swimming in pixie magic.

            “Guess I trust you.” Pan whispered, before collapsing in Felix’s arms, completely unconscious.

            Shaken, Felix pulled slowly out of him and laid him gently onto the straw bed. He pulled the blanket over Pan and was about to crawl in beside him, when the green glow from outside grew stronger and he turned his face out the window to look.

            Down on the branches just below them, the pixie dust flowers were blooming. Glowing green magic floated up into the air, covering the leaves, making them rise and strain against the branches holding them down. As Felix looked further out, he saw more and more trees below them, all of them glowing green against the dark night sky. Felix’s eyes grew wider as he looked further and further and saw more and more of them, flowers opening, pixie dust floating up into the air, all the way to the ocean.

            _All of Neverland_ was blooming, _alive_ , magic in every crevice, from every tree. He glanced over at Skull Rock—and in its place he saw a golden cloud of dust swirling up from the sea- the magic released from the hourglass, free at last. It mingled with the rest of the magic that floated up from Neverland, lighting up the sky, making the stars glow brighter.

            Then other colors started to rise from the treetops. Amidst the ever-thickening green dust, there rose glowing lights of pinks, blues, yellows, oranges. Felix heard the sounds of high-pitched laughter echoing across the treetops, and he realized that the other colors were _fairies_ \- and there were _hundreds_ of them.

            He heard screeches of glee coming from camp. He squinted in that direction and couldn’t see much- but he knew. The boys were flying, though from the sound of it, badly. He heard a loud “OW!!” as he saw the top of a tree shake. He snorted and shook his head.

            Then he saw, against the glowing green air, the silhouette of a pirate ship, rising into the clouds. Sailing on a trail of pixie dust, it left swirls of green and golden magic behind it in its wake. Felix turned to tell Pan; but he was sound asleep, his entire body completely relaxed as he curled in towards his stomach. Trails of green and gold magic twisted their way into Pan from every direction. They passed through the walls as if they weren’t there. He looked outside and saw them, like highways of magic, ropes along which the glowing light traveled, all converging onto the treehouse and down into Pan.

            Neverland was blooming, and Pan was absorbing every drop of it.

            They had done it. The spell was broken.

            Felix forgot about the wonders happening outside. He didn’t care about any of it. He slid into bed behind Pan and pulled him into his arms, feeling his heart beat against his chest, his breath drift over his neck. He knew that in the morning, a lot of things would be different. But not this. Not this.


	11. Epilogue

The sun shone brightly in Felix’s eyes and he jerked up into a sitting position, rubbing the spots out of them. He looked down at Pan…who was still asleep. How did the sun rise without his permission?

            “Peter.” he said, gently shaking his shoulder. The boy didn’t respond at all. He lay, curled on his side, one hand under his face as his stomach slowly rose and fell with his steady breaths. His face looked absolutely serene. Felix hardly recognized him.

            “Good morning, Felix.”

            Felix jumped and turned towards the window where the voice had come from. He squinted in the sun and saw the small silhouette of a human. It flitted in through the window and settled on the table, not more than six inches tall, a soft green glow surrounding it. He squinted.

            “Tinker Bell?”

            She laughed and flitted her wings, pixie dust flying off of her.

            “Yes! Isn’t it wonderful? I have all of my magic back!”

            Felix rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. He had forgotten that Tinker Bell was actually a fairy. “So many new fairies were born last night, Felix. Neverland is full of magic again!” She twirled and giggled on the table. “The Shadow is gone!”

            She steadied and winked at him.

            “And we all have _you_ to thank.”

            He blushed crimson. Tinker Bell giggled.

            “Oh don’t be so shy. You’ve broken the curse that was on Neverland. No one thought it could ever be done- especially not with _him_.” she said, gesturing at Peter.

            Felix’s brain was trying to understand. Why did he constantly feel like he never had all the information?

            “Wait, what curse on Neverland? I thought _Pan_ was cursed.”

            She nodded.

            “Oh, he was, with that hourglass. But that was a small curse; one the Shadow cast on Peter only. Neverland itself, was cursed, has been cursed, for a very, very long time. The Shadow was the embodiment of that curse. It controlled all the magic. It held all the power. It made all the rules. Horrible rules. Rules such as only children can use the magic; not fairies, not you. Bah.”

            Felix was totally lost.

            “Go on, see for yourself.” she said. “Imagine up anything you like.”

            Felix held out his palm and thought of toast, and there it was. His heart leapt. He had magic again. He then thought of it _not_ being there. Un-imagining was something he’d never been able to do. And then it was gone.

            Felix lifted his eyes up to Tinker Bell in surprise.

            “See?” she said. “The magic is no longer hoarded by the Shadow. It is back where it belongs- to _all_ of us.”

            Felix struggled to understand.

            “Wait.” he turned and stared at Pan, still sound asleep. “With the heart of the Truest Believer, Pan was supposed to get all the magic. Is the power no longer his?”

            Felix tried to hide the panic in his voice.

            Tinker Bell sighed.

            “No, the power is still his. In fact now, it is _all_ his.” she said sadly. “He is now immortal, all-powerful.” She sighed heavily.

            Felix’s eyes squinted.

            “You’re lying to me. Then how did the sun rise without his permission?”

            Tinker Bell shook her head.

            “It hasn’t! Felix, trust me. He is more powerful than _ever_. To the point of raising the sun _in his sleep_. Don’t you understand? He is _Peter Pan._ ”

            Felix just stared at the fairy with confusion. Maybe all that pixie dust had gone to her head.

            She sighed and flitted to the edge of the table, taking a seat. She rubbed her forehead. “You’ll have to forgive me for not explaining very well. I’ve only known all of this information for a few hours, you know.”

            She took a deep breath, and started again. “There have been several Pans before _him_.” She said, gesturing at the perfect creature that slept on the bed. “Neverland has always been ruled by Peter Pan. They are immortal, but eventually, even the life of immortal creatures ends. The last one? He made a terrible mistake.” she said, rubbing her forehead. Felix turned to Pan, wanting him to verify what she was saying, but he continued sleeping, undisturbed by the conversation.

            “Because of that mistake, the curse fell upon Neverland, and the Shadow ruled it instead. For a very long time.” Tinker Bell’s wings flitted behind her. She looked restless. As if sitting was the last thing she wanted to be doing. “And then _he_ ,” she said, gesturing at Peter-- her voice sounding like she couldn’t decide whether she hated or revered him—“Managed to somehow make a deal with the Shadow to let him become the next Pan. But with the price of that damned hourglass, of course.”

            Felix’s eyes darted from side to side as he put these pieces together.

            “Most of us believed that he would find a way to break the hourglass curse. He’s very determined and when he wants something, nothing stops him from getting it. But nobody thought he’d _bother_ to break the curse on Neverland, once he had all the power for himself. What would _he_ care whether fairies lived?”

            Tinker Bell flitted up from the table and floated down to land on Felix’s knee. He was so used to her being…well, a _woman_ , that he felt self-conscious about being naked, even if a blanket covered his bottom half.

            “But, when you take a being who is _incredibly_ powerful when he’s using dark magic, and you pass _light_ magic through him—I guess there is no curse that can withstand it.”

            Felix snorted.

            “Pan doesn’t have light anywhere in him.”

            She giggled. It was becoming annoying.

            “But he does.” she said. “Dark magic comes from fear, anger, hatred. Light magic comes from love. Though it didn’t seem possible with _this_ one, you have made him feel love, Felix. You have saved Neverland. You have freed us all.”

            “It was an accident.” he growled. He hated fairies. “I just wanted to free _Pan_.”

            Tinker Bell laughed again. He swatted at her. She flitted out of his reach.

            “But you two love each other _so_ deeply. It makes sense. If he has room in his heart to love only one, that that love would be deep enough to go all the way through.”

            She waved her wand, and Felix could see into Pan’s chest, like a window. He saw his heart beating, black as coal, save for a brilliant red line zigzagging like a jagged shard through the center.

            “That red is you.” she said. “That tiny bit of light magic has created _so_ much life. You’ve changed him. For the _better_ , you’ll see.”

            Felix turned to glare at her. She sighed and flitted to the windowsill.

            “It’s okay, Felix.” she said. “He’s still yours.”

            Then she was gone.

            Felix turned and stroked his fingers gently through Pan’s hair, watching him as he slept. Changed? How changed? Who was he going to _be_ when he woke up? Fear clenched Felix’s heart. Hadn’t he just told Pan yesterday that he’d love him whether or not he was evil? Then what was he afraid of?

            Pan stirred. Felix started to pull his fingers away from his hair, when a hand flew out and clasped his wrist with an iron grip.

            “Did I tell you to stop.”

            Felix sighed with heavy relief as he resumed stroking Pan’s hair. He still _sounded_ like his usual self…

            “What did the fairy want.”

            Felix wondered if Pan had really been awake during the entire conversation, just to see what Felix would say. He hoped so. That would be such a _him_ thing to do.

            “To gloat.” he replied. “She was blabbering about light magic and good winning and you breaking the curse over Neverland.”

            Felix watched Pan’s lips upturn in what he would call a smile, but others would probably call a sneer.

            “Was she.”

            Felix’s relaxed as he felt relief. Red streak or not, Pan was his usual, normal self.

            He opened his eyes and sat up. Felix let his hand fall into his lap.

            “Makes sense.” he said, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head. His entire body… _rippled_. Not his muscles but his _skin_ , or _him_ , as if he was bending reality itself. He shot Felix a sideways glance and pretended to stretch his neck this way and that. “She _was_ the only living fairy in Neverland; so when the new ones were born that would make her automatically the oldest and in charge. Explains why she knows everything.”

            Felix stared.

            “You _let_ them be born?”

            “Well.” Pan’s eyes raked down over Felix’s bare chest, resting on where his crotch was through the blankets, and dragged slowly back up to his face. “I was a _bit_ lost in the moment.”

            Felix blushed and his breath quickened. So then everything Tinker Bell had said was true.

            “Will you continue to let them live?”

            Pan shrugged, and the entire treehouse creaked and moved to follow his shoulders. He looked around at the wood of the walls, now misshapen and curved. He smirked.

            “Whoops.”

            If Felix had been standing, his knees would have given out on him.

            “Oh.” Pan said. “Did I mention how the more fairies there are, the more powerful I am?”

            Felix leaned his back against the wall to steady himself.

            Pan _was_ more powerful.

            “That’s right. All the magic is mine.” he said. He crawled forward, the blanket sliding away, giving Felix a view of his entire naked body until he was too close, crawling into Felix’s lap. He became very upset at the blanket that covered him.

            Pan wrapped his arms around Felix’s shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. Electricity crackled through his lips where Pan touched him. Felix shuddered. Pan pulled away and smiled.

            “Light magic, Fee. Don’t be afraid of it. It’s very powerful.”

            “But…”

            “Don’t worry.” Pan said, his eyes drifting down to Felix’s lips. “I’m still plenty evil.”

            Felix sighed with relief. Pan leaned in to kiss him, and he could _feel_ it, the power, pulsing beneath his skin, begging to be used, to be allowed to move. Pan’s lips pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue sliding along it, making Felix shiver. Pan pushed forward, crushing Felix’s head to the wall with the force of his kisses. When he pulled away Felix was completely breathless. It took him a moment to even find his brain. There was something important…

            “The pirates escaped.” he said.

            “I know. Felt them leaving. Was too tired to care at the time.”

            Of course he knew. All of Felix’s apprehension left him.

            “So what’s the plan?”

            Pan slapped him on the shoulder and stood up, suddenly dressed, along with Felix.

            “Well, we’re going to need some new enemies to have adventures with.” he said. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, his eyes moving under his eyelids, searching. The corner of his lips upturned in that way they did when he had a devilish idea.

            “What do you think.” he said, opening his eyes. Felix could feel them piercing through him, seeing everything, knowing everything. Despite his clothes, he felt totally naked. If this was his new life, he couldn’t _wait_ for the next four hundred years. “About Indians.”

            Pan smirked while Felix tried to process that statement. He didn’t know what an Indian was. Before he could reply, Peter grabbed his hand and flew out the window so quickly Felix was yanked by the shoulder. It took him a moment to right himself and catch up- and he smiled, a little too much, when he realized _he could fly again_.

            Pan led them over the forest, where all the trees bloomed with pixie flowers- and Felix could hear their laughter now, each one of the pixies dancing and giggling in the flowers that had given birth to them. They flew past the forest and reached the western shore, where Skull Rock used to be. Pan stopped, hovering over the ocean. He let go of Felix and raised both his palms in the air. The ocean churned and swirled, waves crashing against the shore as new land rose up out of the sea; a huge portion of it, almost as big as Neverland itself. When it was still, Peter flicked his fingers, and trees appeared, growing out of the ground and becoming fully mature in seconds. He connected the two islands by a small chunk of beach and nodded, satisfied.

            “Indian territory.” he said. He turned his head and listened, and then Felix heard the sound of voices—human, adult voices, their tones loud with concern and confusion—rising up from the trees in the new land.

            “I’ll give them a few days to settle in. Then they’ll forget where they came from, and think they were always here.” he said. He turned to Felix with a glint in his eye, and Felix’s heart jumped with excitement. A totally new adventure.

            “It will be your job to help me make them hate us.” he said. “Once they start attacking our camp, then I’ll break it to the boys how we’ve been invaded by a new foe. Then the fighting will begin. The battles will be epic. You’ll get to fight by my side.” Pan said.

            “Always.” Felix replied. Pan glanced at him from the side, his brown hair ruffling in the breeze coming off the ocean as they hovered over the new island. Felix could do nothing but stare, his eyes drawn to the face that ruled his life.

            “Of course, I’ll be needing to keep this bit of light magic in me, to keep the fairies alive, so I can remain as powerful as possible.” he said, not turning to look at Felix, his eyes still examining the new land he’d built. “So you’ll be sleeping in my bed from now on.”

            “Yes, Pan.”

            Peter smirked.

            “As if what I just said isn’t exactly what you want to hear.”

            Felix smirked back, his expression almost a perfect imitation of Pan’s, not on purpose but just from centuries of staring into and getting to know his face.

            “Everything you say is exactly what I want to hear.”

            “ _Fuck_ , Fee.” Pan said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

            “Likewise.” Felix said. Peter turned and kissed him, in the light, in the sun, in the _sky_ , where anyone could look up and see. There was no longer any reason to hide. The Shadow’s rules were broken. Pan was more than king, he was Master, of all magic, of all Neverland. Felix glowed from his hair to his toes. Changed, he thought. Better. Definitely, definitely better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to post the last bit; but this story was really important to me and I wanted it to be perfect (it isn't). I worked really, really hard on this (losing sleep right now to post it, haha), so if you liked it, or any part of it, please kindly let me know with a comment. Thank you all so much for reading!


End file.
